


Your Face Smiling Up at Me

by Mireille



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: The picture going around is totally misleading. Tony was checking out Steve's earpiece, not whispering sweet nothings into his ear. But Steve sees an opportunity to distance himself from bigots who keep trying to use his image to support their causes, and besides, it's only alittlelie. Steve's really bisexual. Steve's really in love with Tony.The only part that isn't true is that Tony feels the same.He's willing to go along with the plan, though, and they can just "break up" later, right? It's going to be fine.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 66
Kudos: 696





	Your Face Smiling Up at Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a winning bidder at Marvel Trumps Hate 2019. 
> 
> Many, many thanks to soft_princess. She knows why.

****

The first message from Tony was just a link to something on Twitter. Steve ignored it; Tony sent him a lot of links to things he thought Steve would want to look at, and Steve generally didn't want to look at them, at least not right away.

Tony had made sure that the entire team had the latest StarkPhones, and he'd even had someone come to the tower and show Steve and Thor how to use them. Steve did use his phone--to stay in touch with the team, to look things up when he had a question, that kind of thing. 

He'd just rather read a book than an article on the internet, so he saved the links Tony sent him for times when he was bored and didn't have anything else handy. 

Except this time, after the link, Tony sent another message: _Do you remember this? I don't._

Curious, Steve clicked on the link. The app opened up, and a tweet appeared. He didn't notice the text at first, just the picture. 

It was a picture of Steve, looking battered and bloody after a fight, and Tony--his helmet off, but still wearing his armor--leaning in to whisper something into his ear. 

Steve didn't remember that, either. But then he looked more closely at the background. Wasn't that... yes, it was. That was last month, out on Long Island, when they'd had to stop that guy who had somehow managed to create a dinosaur army. (Well, six dinosaurs. When they were about fifteen tons of angry lizard each, six was an army.) 

Steve's earpiece had gone on the fritz during the battle. That was how he'd gotten that bloody nose and split lip; he hadn't heard Natasha's warning in time. 

Afterward, Tony had wanted to check it out immediately, frustrated that tech he'd designed wasn't working perfectly. 

And, it seemed, someone had snapped a picture. 

Now, over a month later, someone else had found that picture and decided it needed a wider audience; they'd attached the caption " _Believe me now? #IronCaptain #LoveIsLove_ "

There were three hundred and eleven replies, and the tweet was timestamped less than an hour ago. 

Steve decided he didn't want to read them yet. 

He didn't want to read them at all, but if he was interpreting that tweet correctly, he was probably going to have to. The team who handled all the Avengers' official "social media presence" was going to want to know what Steve wanted them to say about this particular situation. 

The situation where apparently, someone going by the handle of "the great and powerful Karrin" was trying to imply that he and Tony were... a couple? 

_Long Island_ , he texted Tony back. _The dinosaurs_. 

_I still don't remember whispering sweet nothings in your ear. ;)_ , was Tony's reply. 

Steve would have remembered that, too. He remembered the tiny shiver that had run through him when he'd felt Tony's breath on his cheek, even though the context had been strictly business. 

It was going to be hard to come up with a statement for PR, even knowing that one of their social media experts would take what Steve said and craft it into something a little more eloquent. 

The picture was definitely misleading; Steve managed to follow it back to the original photographer, and even in the context of the other pictures from the dinosaur battle, it still looked incredibly intimate. The facts were straightforward, though: there was nothing between him and Tony. 

Steve just hated having to say that, because in a perfect world, he'd have been able to give the PR team a better picture of him and Tony, and tell them to send it out with the same tags. Clint had explained "couple names" to him back when Tony and Pepper had still been together. "IronCaptain" wasn't great, but at least it didn't remind Steve of pizza.

But this wasn't a perfect world, as demonstrated by both dinosaurs attacking Long Island and the fact that Steve and Tony were friends and teammates, but nothing else. 

He started scrolling through the responses to the misleadingly-captioned picture. A lot of the responses were positive, to his surprise. He knew things had changed a lot since he went into the ice, but sometimes he still wasn't prepared for how much. 

_Great picture. #IronCaptain #LoveIsLove_

_Even MORE my heroes than yesterday. #IronCaptain #LoveIsLove_

_Awww, sweet!_

_I'm only sad that they're off the market. ;)_

_Congratulations, Cap and Iron Man. <3 <3 <3_

There were a lot more in that vein, and some that verged into 140 characters of pornography, but still, overwhelmingly positive, and it filled Steve with a warm glow to think that so many people would wish them well. 

It might not be true, but it was still true that Steve might, at some point, be in relationship with a man, and it felt good to know that there were people who would be happy for him. 

But interspersed with those comments were others that weren't so encouraging. 

_Absolutely disgusting. #NotMyHeroes_

_My kid cried when I threw away his Capt America action figure b/c Cap's a pervert._

_They shouldnt let him carry that sheild. #NotMyHeroes_

_You can't defend America when you're destroying everything it stands for._

And a few that got straight to the point, along the lines of _Fucking faggots._

Steve actually recognized the names on a few of the accounts tweeting the negative comments; a few months ago, he'd gotten fed up with the number of right-wing activist groups who were using his image in their propaganda, and one of Tony's high-priced lawyers had gone after them. 

The worst of it was gone now, the stuff that was legally actionable, like using a picture of Captain America and text that implied that Steve was on board with deporting refugees, or killing doctors who performed abortions, or letting the police shoot unarmed people just for being black. 

The images that remained online still infuriated Steve--lots of captions about American traditions and old-fashioned values--but the lawyer had said that there wasn't much they could do about them, since the wording was ambiguous. 

Steve did stand for a lot of old-fashioned values, just not the same ones they were talking about.

Some of the people who put those "ambiguous" images online were the same people complaining about the picture of him and Tony. 

Maybe all that would stop now, if they were so disgusted by the idea that Steve was involved with a man. Maybe they'd find someone else to serve as their poster boy for all the causes that had made Steve angry in the forties. They disgusted him even more now, when people had had so many decades to learn better. 

If he had the PR team send out a tweet that the picture was misleading, they'd feel vindicated. Of course their hero couldn't possibly be bisexual. They'd known better. 

But if Steve didn't have them do any such thing... 

When he'd found out how things had changed between his time and the twenty-first century, Steve had realized that it would be possible for him to be honest about himself. But he'd also quickly discovered that being Captain America, in the twenty-first century, meant that way too many people thought they had a right to all the details of his personal life. 

It wasn't so bad in Manhattan, where people more famous than Steve were everywhere. Most of the people who approached him in the city were little kids, and Steve never minded talking to them. When he was out of town, though, people constantly wanted his time and attention, even when he was just trying to buy lunch or walk down the street. 

Not to mention all the people who'd been treating Steve's life like an academic subject when he was still in the ice, and didn't see the need to stop that now that Steve was here, walking around, not really wanting to hear their theories about what Captain America had really been like. 

So Steve had decided that this one thing, at least, was going to be just his. He'd told himself that if there ever came a time when he had someone significant in his life--whether they were a man or a woman--they could decide together how public they wanted their relationship to be. 

But as long as he was single, Steve's personal life was none of the world's business. 

Right now, the world was under the impression that Steve wasn't single. Maybe he should continue to let them think that, at least until all the bigots had been driven away and none of them wanted to be even vaguely associated with Captain America any more. 

While just coming out would do some of that, it'd have much more impact if there was another person involved, someone Steve could have a very public relationship with. He knew how some people thought; they'd be able to look past Steve's sexuality as long as he kept it completely private. 

Luckily for Steve, he'd just been linked with someone who didn't know the meaning of the phrase "completely private." 

If Tony agreed to go along with this--and it wasn't like Tony seemed bothered by the picture or the caption, just surprised that he didn't remember when it was taken--there was no way anyone who had a problem with Steve being bisexual would ever want to imply that Captain America was on their side of any issue. 

All right, then, Steve decided. He'd contact the PR team later; he already had an email notification that they wanted to talk to him ASAP. If they complained about how long it took him to get in touch, he'd play the "old guy not really understanding how email works" card. He tried not to use it very often, but right now, he needed time. 

He needed to talk to Tony.

****

"So, let me get this straight," Tony said as he refilled Steve's coffee. He looked at his own cup for a minute, then shook his head and took the pot back to the coffeemaker. "No pun intended," he added, reaching under the counter and producing a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

Steve managed a weak smile at the equally weak joke. He picked up his mug again while Tony poured himself a drink. 

"Someone decided this picture of us is evidence that we're a couple," Tony said. "That part I follow completely. It happens all the time." He took a drink, closing his eyes as he savored it.

Steve did his best not to notice Tony's blissful expression. He wasn't here to stare, he told himself. He was here because he had a workable plan to separate his public image from people whose beliefs disgusted him, and he needed Tony's help for it. 

If it had been Clint, for example, that people were speculating about, then he'd have asked Clint to pretend to be dating him, even though he had no interest in dating Clint. 

This had nothing to do with any of Steve's personal feelings except the ones about being used as right-wing propaganda. 

"What part aren't you following?" Steve asked.

"The part where you want to us to pretend we're a couple," Tony said. He came back and sat down on the end of the couch closest to Steve's chair. "I understand not going in for frantic denial, the whole 'protesting too much' thing. That's the best way to convince people that you're gay, dating me, and desperate to hide it." 

"There are a lot of people who see my uniform and my shield and think that means I stand for the same things they do," Steve said. "The lawyers stopped the worst of the groups using my image for their marketing, but that doesn't do anything about the ordinary people who think I agree with their hatred of anyone who isn't just like them."

"But if you're publicly dating another man, you think that's going to drive them away." 

Steve nodded. "It'd have to be very public indeed. I don't want them to be able to say, 'At least he's one of the good ones. He may not be able to help being a fairy, but at least he doesn't shove it in our faces.'" Actually, he hadn't heard anyone use "fairy" since he'd come out of the ice, but he assumed Tony would get the point. 

"I'd also start actively supporting a lot of causes they don't agree with," he continued. "Marriage equality, protections for kids at school, that kind of thing. Causes I've given some money to in the past, but now I'd want to start lending my personal support. It'll let me tell people what I think that real American values should be." 

"We can do that," Tony said. 

That "we" was encouraging. 

"But," Tony went on after another sip of his drink, "you get that once you do that, there's no walking it back, right? You and I, sure, we can break up, that won't be a problem. But once you've publicly come out as gay..."

"I won't be coming out as gay," Steve corrected him. "I'll be coming out as bisexual, and..." He shrugged. "It's not something I'll need to walk back. I hadn't intended to make a public statement about it, but I won't need to take it back when this is over." 

Tony looked at him over the rim of his glass for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, then. Let's do it." 

"You're serious?"

"I hate those assholes," Tony said. "In general, but also because they keep trying to use you. I know what you believe in, and I think it's about time that they figured it out, too." He smiled at Steve, and this time, Steve had no problem smiling back. 

"Besides," Tony continued, "this is going to be so much fun. I get to annoy jackasses for a good cause, we can make a spectacle of ourselves, and I get to show up at charity events with Captain America on my arm. I like it when at least half the room is jealous of me." 

"The same thing's true for you, though. You're not going to be able to take this back after it's over."

Tony shrugged. "I never take anything back. Besides, you should see the stuff that was on the gossip pages about me, especially back before Iron Man. This isn't even negative, even if some people think so." 

"So you're fine with this. You're fine with people thinking we're together? The team will know better, obviously, but I don't think we should tell anyone else. What if Pepper--"

Tony cut him off with a shake of his head. "Pepper made it clear that we're done. She can't complain if I move on."

"But if she changes her mind," Steve began. 

"Let me worry about that, okay? It's not going to be a problem. Our only concern now is coming up with our story. People are going to want to know all the details of how we got together."

Steve considered for a moment. "We should keep it close to the truth," he said. "We became friends after the Chitauri invasion, so maybe we should let this fake relationship start there, too? The truth is that we learned to appreciate one another more during the battle, so we can just... build from that."

"Sounds plausible," Tony said, "and you're right, the closer to the truth it is, the easier it will be for us to remember the details." 

Steve would have no problem remembering the details of that story. 

After all, from his perspective, that was exactly how it had happened. The only lie would be that Tony felt the same way.

****

"You know this is a stupid plan," Clint said, reaching over Natasha to snag the last piece of sausage pizza.

"Since when are my plans stupid?" Tony demanded. 

He might have gotten away with that, if only because most of the time, Tony's plans were something like "wing it," which barely counted as a plan. Unfortunately, Colonel Rhodes was in New York and had come by the Tower for dinner. 

At Tony's words, he started laughing so hard that his last bite of pizza went down the wrong way, and Steve had to thump him on the back. 

"Do you want a list?" he asked Tony once he'd caught his breath, and then, "Thanks, Steve." 

"Clint's right, though," Bruce said. "This is a ridiculous plan. You're going to fake date someone to troll the conservatives?" 

Steve shrugged. "The only thing that's not true is that Tony and I are a couple." Maybe not exactly the case, but Tony didn't seem to mind that people were going to think he wasn't straight, so Steve wasn't going to worry about that. 

"And people do date for PR reasons," Tony said. "Why is it a problem when we do it?"

"I don't know," Clint said, "maybe because Captain America lying like that seems kind of... off-brand?" 

Steve reached for a napkin and wiped the pizza grease off his hands. "I prefer to be honest," he said, "but sometimes, misleading the enemy is the best thing you can do--and the people I'm talking are enemies to everything I stand for. And like I said, the only lie is the relationship. I really am bisexual. I really do believe in all the things I'm going to publicly support." 

"Besides," Tony said, "Steve and I are going to be dating. This won't work if we're not very public with our relationship. As far as the public sees, this would look exactly the same if this was genuine. And it's nobody's business what happens, or doesn't happen, behind closed doors."

Rhodes cleared his throat. "This sounds like a terrible idea to me," he said, looking right at Tony. 

Of course he'd be concerned about Tony doing something that was likely to lead to scandal. Until very recently, Tony's public image had involved equal parts of brilliance and scandal, and it was only natural that Tony's best friend wouldn't want to see him slide back into that. 

Tony shook his head. "People love a love story, Rhodey," he said breezily. "And Cap and I are going to give them one hell of a love story. It's going to be fine. It's going to be _fun_."

"And when it ends?" 

"People also love seeing famous people miserable, so we'll give them that, too." 

Rhodey took a few steps closer to Tony, close enough that he could put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Tony said, literally shrugging him off. "What about you, Natasha? You're the only person here who hasn't had an opinion." 

Steve was a little relieved that Thor wasn't on Earth at the moment. There was a lot about human culture that he just didn't get, much more so than Steve, who was just a few decades behind the curve. Thor was on an entirely different graph. 

"Oh, I've had an opinion," she said. "I can think of at least a dozen ways this is likely to go wrong. But your minds are made up, and I don't waste my time with arguments I'm not going to win. Besides, it's not like I'm opposed to lying to scumbags."

That was as close to a show of support as they were going to get, it seemed. 

Steve supposed that was fair. This _was_ dishonest, and as Clint said, it wasn't what people would expect from Captain America. 

And it didn't seem like they were opposed to the idea of Steve intentionally upsetting people who reminded him, a lot, of the people he'd been fighting back in the forties. They just didn't like this particular plan, because they all thought it was going to end badly somehow. 

There was no way this could end badly, Steve reminded himself. At least, no way that it could end badly that wouldn't also be possible if he and Tony were really a couple. 

No one outside the tower was going to have any idea that they weren't a couple. They worked together, they lived together--and the wild speculation that showed up on the internet made it clear that the general public had no idea of the team's living arrangements--and now they'd be spending a lot of their free time together, in public. 

One of the photos Tony had taken of them had been of him kissing Steve's cheek, even, so they were going to look, to the outside, like any other couple. 

Nothing could go wrong. 

A little voice in the back of Steve's mind said, _Unless Tony figures out that you're not pretending._

That wasn't going to happen, though, so he didn't have to worry about it.

****

"Our first official date," Tony said, holding up his wine glass in Steve's direction.

Steve raised his own glass; he'd let Tony order whatever wine he thought would go well with the food they'd ordered. Steve knew you drank red wine with red meat, and white wine with chicken and fish, and beyond that... he had no idea. 

He'd gone along with it even though he didn't really drink much. It seemed like the kind of thing you'd do on a date in a fancy restaurant, and even though the wine wouldn't have any effect on him, he'd drink it for appearance's sake. 

He took a tentative sip, and something must have showed on his face, because Tony frowned, setting down his own glass. "Is something wrong?"

"No. It's good." He'd been surprised about that. The wine he'd drunk during the war had usually been because it was a better option than whatever water supply they'd found, or because one of the Howlies was passing it around and Steve didn't want to be rude. It hadn't been revolting. It just hadn't been like this. 

"Of course it's good," Tony said. "Did you think I'd pick out a bad wine for us?" But his smile looked genuine, so Steve figured that he hadn't actually insulted Tony's taste. 

"Of course not." Tony was trying. That much was obvious. Even Steve had heard of this restaurant, and when he'd asked JARVIS about it to see what to expect once Tony had told him that was where they were going, he'd discovered that they were booked solid for the next two months. 

Two days ago, they'd had the PR team tweet out the pictures Tony had taken of them, with their statements confirming that yes, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were in a relationship and had been for quite some time. 

Either Tony had canceled a date with someone else to bring Steve here, or he'd pulled strings to get them a table. The latter seemed more likely, since to Steve's knowledge, Tony hadn't been seeing anyone lately. And, while he wasn't proud of it, Steve did pay attention to that.

So yes, Tony was trying. 

Steve almost wished he wasn't trying this hard. 

He couldn't really argue with the choice of restaurant; it was the kind of place a man like Tony would take his dates,. Besides, it was exclusive enough and discreet enough that it wouldn't turn into a circus the minute someone realized that Captain America and Iron Man were here on their first date since they came out. 

It just wasn't the kind of place Steve liked. 

Tony was at his most charming, too, reaching across the table to keep his hand on Steve's while they waited for their starters, keeping the conversation light and flirty and his attention focused on Steve. 

He just wasn't the _Tony_ Steve liked. 

This Tony, the one who ordered $800 bottles of wine and then sent them back because they weren't up to his standards, the one who finagled reservations to a trendy restaurant because it'd look good in the gossip columns, was... fine. But he was all surface, no substance, and Steve preferred substance. 

He'd also have preferred a good steak to the three small beef medallions on his plate, but at least they'd had food on the menu that he recognized and knew he'd like. 

Steve was realizing how very low-brow a lot of his tastes were. That normally didn't matter--even Tony had a not-so-secret weakness for fast-food cheeseburgers and street-cart hot dogs--but at a place like this, it meant Steve was uncomfortable. 

And apparently, Steve's discomfort had communicated itself to Tony, because Tony put down his fork and frowned at Steve. "Is everything okay? If you don't like the food, I can probably have them--"

No, Steve thought, that was the problem. Steve wasn't the kind of guy who had the kitchen make him something that wasn't on the menu. Steve found places he was comfortable being in that served food he liked, and he went there, and he didn't have three different forks to deal with at one time. 

He knew what the forks were for. Back in the forties, before the USO tour, Captain America had been given thorough etiquette lessons, because important people were going to want to have dinner with him. Knowing what to do with the forks wasn't the point. The forks reminding him of a time when he felt like a trained dog being run through its tricks, _that_ was the point. Maybe.

"Everything's fine," Steve lied. Then he realized that they were going to be doing this for a while. He couldn't just keep lying to Tony about being miserable. 

He took a deep breath. "The food is good," he said. "The company is great." A little bit of a lie, since Tony was in show-off mode, but not too much of one. "This just really isn't my kind of place. I know it's yours, but..."

Tony laughed. "Not really," he admitted. "It's fine. It's not the kind of place I go out to dinner with friends. I come to places like this when I want to be seen, or when I'm..." He laughed again, more softly this time. "When I'm trying to impress a date," he admitted. 

"Your date's already impressed," Steve said, which wasn't a lie at all. 

"You're probably also starving, I just realized," Tony said. "You eat more than that for a snack." 

Steve felt guilty about it sometimes, knowing how hard food had sometimes been to come by in his younger days, but since the serum, he needed a lot of food to keep going. At a place like this, where the food all came in artfully arranged small servings, it was embarrassing to have to admit that no, that really wasn't going to work for him. 

"A little bit," he admitted. 

"Okay, then," Tony said. "We'll finish eating. We'll go for a walk afterward and get you a slice or something, enough to hold you over until we're back home. And maybe ice cream," he added. "It'll look good if someone takes a picture of us. The two of us, hand in hand, with ice cream cones? So wholesome it hurts." 

Tony didn't know the half of it. Those were the kinds of pictures Steve knew he wasn't going to be able to let himself look at, the ones where he and Tony managed to look like a real couple. 

They were also the kinds that would bring the bigots out of the woodwork, and that was the point of this whole thing.

"Sounds like a plan," Steve said. 

"And when we get back to the tower," Tony began with a grin. He hesitated, then leaned across the table like what he was about to say wasn't for public consumption. 

Steve was sure that anyone who saw them would assume Tony was spinning some lascivious fantasy for him. 

Truthfully, if someone told Steve that, "You can come back to the lab and help me test out those new earpieces I made for our field communicators," was a lascivious fantasy for Tony, he'd have a hard time coming up with a solid argument against it.

****

After that uncomfortable first "date," they agreed to stick to places that were a little more downmarket, where they'd both be more comfortable.

"Bonus," Tony said, dragging his last french fry through the ketchup on Steve's plate since he'd used all of his own, "in places like this, there'll be more people around, which increases the chances that pictures will wind up on the internet." He made a subtle gesture toward a nearby table where a couple of women had their phones pointed in their general direction.

Steve nodded; his mouth was full of grilled cheese sandwich, so he didn't have to respond just yet. 

He was still having a little trouble adjusting to the idea that pictures winding up on the internet would be a good thing. He knew it was--this didn't work unless people were talking about them, after all--but he imagined it was weird for Tony, too, considering that he'd complained about the paparazzi when he and Pepper were together. 

It wasn't just professional photographers, either--the most popular photos online had been ones snapped by passersby, like the one from the evening of their first date, when they'd been walking down the street with Steve's arm around Tony.

Steve had figured out how to set that one as the wallpaper on his phone. All part of the illusion, he told himself. If he were really dating Tony, he definitely would have done that. He'd also taught himself how to take a screenshot, so that he could show the photographer--who seemed to be a high school girl, from her Instagram account--that he'd liked it. (She'd responded with "asdfljklk;adjfklsd;!!!!!!!" which everyone had assured Steve was a good reaction.) 

"So I have ideas about our next date," Tony went on before Steve could say anything. "You want this to be really public, right?" 

"Absolutely," Steve said. "I don't want there to be anyone with any doubts about us--about me--when people see me on TV next week." 

Steve had turned down a lot of the requests for interviews that had come in after the official statement about his sexuality and his relationship with Tony had hit the internet. 

That wouldn't have surprised anyone; Steve turned down most requests for individual interviews. He took part in team interviews and press conferences, but he didn't want to be put in the spotlight. He wanted to do his job, and try to live his life in whatever brief snatches of time he could find between the demands of both the Avengers and SHIELD. 

But Tony had convinced him that he needed to do one interview, at least, and so Steve had picked a local morning show. He knew clips from it would be aired elsewhere, and that was fine, but he was a New Yorker, and it was New York he wanted to talk to. 

"Great," Tony said. "What about the zoo?" 

Steve thought about the last time he'd gone to the zoo, to people-watch and sketch and, hopefully, melt into the crowd a little. It hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped, but it had mostly worked, and he'd been happy to sign that little girl's cast. 

He tried to picture Tony there; weirdly, it worked. Tony could look at home wherever he found himself, whether that was this diner, where Steve had breakfast a couple of mornings a week after his run, or testifying in front of the Senate. 

He tried to picture the two of them at the zoo, and something twisted in the vicinity of his heart. "That should be perfect," he said. If it stung that much knowing that none of it would be real, that meant it was exactly what they should do. 

Then, because Tony was giving him a strange, thoughtful look, like some of what Steve was thinking was showing on his face, he wadded up the paper from his straw and flicked it at Tony's nose. 

"What the hell did you do that for?" Tony demanded. The paper had bounced off his face and landed in his coffee, and he grabbed a spoon to fish it out. "Are you insane? My God, I'm dating a lunatic. Not that it's the first time." 

"Why" was obvious enough, at least to Steve. It was a distraction and a subject change. It was also something Steve suspected he'd be tempted to do a lot, if he and Tony were really together, at least if it kept making Tony splutter indignantly and laugh until he wheezed, all at the same time.

****

The zoo was not perfect.

New York was experiencing record high temperatures. It was hot and muggy and Steve's shirt was clinging damply to him before they even made it to Central Park.

Tony was cranky because when they'd stopped to get hot dogs, the guy running the cart had looked at Tony and said, "Aren't you--" but when Tony had interrupted him to say, "Iron Man, yes, I'd be happy to sign anything you want," he'd shaken his head and said, "No, sorry, I thought you were somebody famous." 

Two hot dogs and six blocks later, Tony was still complaining about that. "He's not even famous. He's a has-been actor. His career flamed out over a decade ago, Steve, he does _reality shows_ now." 

Steve let the tirade go on for another block before saying, "Hey, Tony? Could you maybe rein your ego in just a little? I'm on a date with you, not it, and I'm not into threesomes." 

That, at least, got Tony to stop ranting about an actor Steve had never even heard of so he could stare open-mouthed at Steve for a few seconds. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Your generation didn't invent them," Steve said. Granted, Steve's experience with them had been listening to some of the dirty stories the Howlies had swapped, and some older boys' extremely implausible boasting when he was a teenager. But he hadn't been raised in a monastery, and maybe it was time Tony realized that. 

To what end, Steve didn't know, but it couldn't hurt for his teammate to have a more accurate image of him, could it? 

It did stop the ranting, anyway.

And while it was still miserably hot at the zoo, they both agreed that they were really going to put on a performance while they were there, which meant walking hand-in-hand. It didn't stop them from bickering, though.

"I don't want to go see the polar bear," Steve said. "He's miserable and depressed, and it's grim."

"He's famous for being neurotic and depressed," Tony argued. "And really, if I were stuck in Central Park I'd be neurotic too."

Steve blinked, then just looked at Tony for a long time, waiting for what he'd said to sink in. 

"More neurotic?" Tony said, but his smile looked pasted onto his face. 

Steve felt bad for a moment. Tony had never said, but some of the arguments between him and Pepper that nobody had been able to help overhearing had made it clear that Tony wasn't handling the aftermath of the Chitauri invasion as well as he liked to make it seem. 

But Steve wasn't supposed to know that. 

Then again, if they were together, Steve _would_ know that, and he wouldn't have said what he did. "I didn't say that." 

Tony dropped the subject, and Steve didn't bring it up again. They skipped the polar bear, though, in favor of red pandas and sea lions.

Tony asked multiple people--usually someone wearing an Iron Man or Captain America t-shirt--to take pictures of them, and then uploaded them to the internet: Steve and Tony holding hands in front of the penguin enclosure, Steve and Tony with their arms around one another; Steve and Tony grinning ridiculously and posing with a tiny girl with a Hulk t-shirt, who flexed her miniature muscles and scowled just like the real thing. 

Every photo was carefully chosen, Steve knew. They were presenting an image of a couple who were happily in love with one another, who were enjoying their newfound chance to be together in public. 

Steve hated every second. 

From the way Tony got quieter and much less melodramatic as the afternoon wore on--at least, unless there was anyone around, when he launched himself into high gear and became almost a caricature of himself--he was pretty sure Tony hated this, too. 

Of course he did. This was a lie, and he didn't even have the one advantage Steve did--that this was at least a chance to live out a lot of his fantasy. 

Tony was doing this to annoy bigots and to help Steve out. He wasn't going to enjoy this; it was a favor. That was obvious from the way Tony hadn't scheduled half a dozen interviews when they'd broken the news. He'd let Steve do all the talking for them, because this was Steve's plan, and Tony was just along for the ride. 

So it was a relief when Tony called for a car, and they sank back into the air-conditioned back seat. Happy Hogan wasn't one of the people who got to know this was fake--that was only the Avengers and Colonel Rhodes--so Steve put his arm around Tony's shoulders, though he stayed quiet. It had been a long day; they were tired. It was okay for them not to talk. 

When they got back to the Tower, Steve expected Tony to head straight for the lab or the penthouse, but instead, he followed Steve onto the floor where all the common living areas were located. 

Steve certainly wasn't going to object to the company. He went into the kitchen to check the refrigerator. The company that ran the employee cafeteria for the lower floors of the tower also kept their refrigerators stocked with prepared or nearly-prepared foods, pitchers of water infused with fruit, iced tea--everything that it could be assumed that the Avengers didn't have time to make for themselves. 

Some weeks, they had plenty of time, but very few of them had the inclination. Tony certainly didn't, and he paid the catering company. 

Steve sometimes thought it was an unnecessary extravagance, but today he was grateful for it. He could pull out one of the prepared vegetable salads with an "XP" on the package (for "extra protein," marking the dishes they made to suit Steve and Thor's nutritional needs) and have something to eat that was both cold--exactly what Steve was craving, after a day in the heat--and required very little effort, which was also a consideration today. 

He poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher with orange slices floating in it, and then held the pitcher up to Tony. "Want some?" 

"Water? Definitely. I'm sweating like a pig." 

Steve grinned. "Well, I was too polite to mention it, but..."

"You're determined to be a jerk, aren't you?" Tony asked, but he was grinning back. 

"It's probably why you fell in love with me." Steve got out another glass and filled it with water. 

He waited until Tony was taking a drink before he said anything else, largely because it would let him get a whole sentence out before Tony could reply. "I can't stand cold water," he said. "Not to drink, that's obviously fine, but the hot water gave out in the shower the other day, and that night I kept dreaming about crashing into the ice." 

"The hot water shouldn't run out," Tony said. "I'm going to have to look at the water heater. It's supposed to be an instant heater, but apparently--" 

"That's not the point." 

Tony took another drink of water. "What is the point, then?" 

"The point is that maybe I did call you neurotic back at the zoo," Steve said. "I didn't mean to, but maybe I did."

Tony bristled visibly. "Got that, thanks." 

"But maybe we all are," Steve finished. "I can't stand cold water, and to be honest, I'm not a big fan of winter. You--I didn't mean to, but I overheard you and Pepper arguing a few times. You have nightmares, don't you? About the invasion." 

"Among other things," Tony admitted, the words bitten off grudgingly. "God, we're only _fake_ dating, we don't need to talk about my problems." 

"Fake dating," Steve agreed, as much as he hated to. "Real friends, though. And I'm not going to force you to talk about it. I'm hating this conversation almost as much as you are." 

He hated having to tell someone, anyone, about the nightmares. The whole point of him going into the ice was that it was a willing sacrifice, right? That was why he wasn't just some idiot, he was Captain America. He did what he had to do to save lives. 

He wasn't supposed to keep dreaming about it, seventy years later. So no, he didn't want to tell Tony about the nightmares, but he also didn't want Tony to think that Steve was judging him for not immediately getting over flying into that wormhole. 

"If you're hating it, and I'm hating it, then why don't we just not have it, and say we did?" Tony's smile looked a little frayed around the edges. _Tony_ looked a little frayed around the edges. 

"I just wanted you to know that I don't--knowing that you're still affected by what happened, it doesn't make me think any less of you." 

Steve hadn't realized how rare it was for Tony to be completely still, until now, when he was, and he almost didn't look like himself. "Good to know," he said, and it sounded like he was being careful with his words. Another thing that made him feel like a stranger, and not Tony. Not even glib, slick, public Tony was ever careful. 

"But," Tony continued, and Steve felt the tension seep out of his shoulders, because now Tony was waving a hand in the air, and his face had lost that weird stillness, "it's fine. I'm fine. That was a while ago, and it's okay, I'm good now."

It had only been a little over a year. Steve had been out of the ice for longer than that, and he still wasn't over it.

But he nodded, and peeled the plastic wrap off his salad as a way to avoid saying anything that might be taken the wrong way. 

"I'm going to be fine," Tony amended. "I'm doing great. Better every day."

"Good to know," Steve echoed, even though he saw Tony's eyes before Tony turned away, and they made him think of ice.

****

"And good riddance," Steve said, as he deleted the email from the PR team updating him on the changes to his appearance schedule.

"Another canceled speaking engagement?" Natasha asked, looking away from the maps JARVIS was projecting for her for a moment. Steve didn't know anything about them--he'd never even heard of Bagalia, though geography hadn't been his best subject in school--so it was probably a SHIELD mission, not anything for the team. 

Steve nodded. "That's the third one this week." Steve wasn't wild about the speaking engagements, period, so he wouldn't have minded if they'd all canceled. He still found it hard to believe sometimes that that many people wanted to hear what he had to say. He was Steve Rogers, a guy from Brooklyn. What they wanted to hear from was the shield, and it didn't talk. 

They weren't all canceling, though. The children's asthma charity that raised money to help kids whose parents couldn't afford their medication? That one still wanted him, and Steve was glad to go. 

The Fresh Air Fund? Steve hadn't ever been able to go to one of their camps, because he was too sick, but Bucky and his oldest sister had gone one year to spend a summer out in the country where the air was clean. He'd been surprised to discover they were still around, but he was happy to help them. 

But there were plenty of conservative groups who'd booked him to speak--the publicists had rejected a lot of requests, because the groups had been too blatantly terrible, but these were the respectable ones--and they were canceling as fast as they could, especially after soundbites from Steve's morning-show interview had gone national.

Which was great, honestly, because not only was that Steve's plan, but it left his schedule free to accept last-minute invitations like the one that had come from Empire State University's Gender and Sexuality Alliance, inviting Steve (and Tony, if he wanted to come) to ride on their float in the Pride parade in two weeks. 

Steve accepted immediately, copying the publicists and also Tony. Which was only fair, because he accepted for Tony, too, after checking with JARVIS to be sure Tony's calendar was free. 

That brought Tony out of wherever he'd been hiding today. Probably his lab, but Steve hadn't checked; they had to spend enough time together that Steve thought it was best for him to leave Tony alone when they were in the tower. He didn't have to invade all of Tony's private life just because their public lives were temporarily entangled. 

Steve had finished going through the list of mail forwarded to him by the publicists. He let the professionals handle the "We're sorry, but there's no room in Captain Rogers' schedule" emails, but some things required his personal attention, like the kid in Missouri who'd written to tell him how much it meant to him that Steve had decided to come out.

Natasha was still studying her maps, but Steve wanted to get up and stretch his legs. A walk in the fresh air--as fresh as you got in the middle of a city, anyway--sounded good; a walk _alone_ sounded great, because an hour out of the tower without having to be "on" as half of "New York's premier superhero couple!" was becoming a rare thing. 

To the best of his knowledge, they were New York's only superhero couple, not that Steve was comfortable with the word "superhero" in the first place. But he guessed that made them the most famous one.

That was when Tony burst in, clearly unwilling to give Steve a chance to ignore his email or text messages. "You volunteered me to ride in a college float in a Pride parade? What are you, insane?" 

Steve shrugged. "I want to do it. This whole thing is about me being as publicly out as possible, and as publicly allied to the causes I believe in as possible. And on such short notice, we were lucky to find a group who wanted us to join up with them." 

"Stark Industries has a float," Tony said. "There's an LGBTQ employee group. If you'd told me you wanted to ride in the parade, I'd have set it up." 

Steve shook his head. "I like this better," he said. "I know neither of us is exactly a college kid, but they asked us, and I think it'd mean more to them than it would to the Stark Industries people." He smiled. "Having you on the float might even make it harder for them to enjoy themselves. You _are_ kind of a big deal at SI, you know." 

Tony snorted. "Kind of a big deal," he repeated. "You're terrible for my ego, you know that?"

"He's good for your ego," Natasha volunteered. "Having a little air let out of it every now and then won't hurt you at all." 

"And you don't have to come to the parade," Steve said. "I'll tell them you're not available, and I'll go alone."

"Oh, no," Tony said. "I told you I'd show up to support you at events, at least until we call this whole thing off. I'll be there." 

"Great." He tried not to look thrilled, because this was just part of their arrangement. It wasn't about Tony recognizing this was important to him. This was just another public appearance to make sure that no one in the Western Hemisphere was unaware that Steve Rogers, Captain America, wasn't straight. 

They were also going to be aware that Tony wasn't straight, and Steve still wasn't sure what Tony was going to do about that, since he'd never said that he wasn't straight. He'd implied it, obviously, because he was in a relationship with Steve, but he hadn't said as much. 

Maybe he was counting on the fact that people would assume he was bisexual, and then after Steve, he could just date women for the rest of his life. 

But it wasn't Steve's problem. 

"Thanks," he told Tony. "It means a lot to me to have you there." 

"It'll be my pleasure, Cap," Tony said. "Now, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

They'd taken today off from appearing in public. Steve had planned to catch up on some SHIELD paperwork, get in a good workout with the heavy bag, and read a book. After that walk, that was. "I was about to take a walk when you came in," he said. 

Tony smiled. "Great. Mind if I come with you?"

It hadn't been Steve's plan. Steve had been thinking about how good it would be to spend some time alone, where no one expected him to be half of a couple. 

But Tony looked so pleased, like he really did want nothing more than to go for a walk with Steve, and Steve couldn't help but nod. "That'll be perfect."

****

Everything about dating Tony was perfect.

Not perfect-perfect, where they never argued and neither of them ever had to cancel on a date because something came up and no one ever rolled his eyes and said, "Fine, be a jackass if that's what makes you happy," because that was impossible. 

But perfect for Steve. If he wanted to be with someone who was never irritating and never found Steve irritating, either, he wouldn't have ever thought about Tony in the first place. 

So yes, they bickered, and yes, Steve canceled on dinner because SHIELD had a mission for him, and yes, Tony just plain forgot that they had plans at least once a week, and yes, if they had actually been a couple, the make-up sex would have been both regular and spectacular. 

So maybe everything about this situation wasn't quite perfect. 

It didn't really matter. What was important was that Steve was finally taking the chance to make it clear to the world exactly what values Captain America stood for. That was why he'd agreed to present the awards at a ceremony recognizing educators who had, as the invitations had read, "demonstrated excellence in serving the needs of their LGBTQIA+ students."

Steve had rehearsed that phrase until the string of letters flowed naturally. To a man who had grown up in a time when the nicest way he heard people like him described was generally, "like that, you know," it took a little practice, but he did it.

A bonus was that it was a formal event, and that meant that he got to see Tony in a tux. He liked Tony in business suits, and in the Iron Man armor, and in t-shirts and jeans. But Tony in a tux was something to be savored. 

Steve wasn't as sure about himself. "I feel like a waiter," he muttered, as he and Tony walked into the hotel where the event was being held. 

"You don't look like a waiter, trust me." Tony looked him over and nodded. "Definitely not a waiter."

Asking anything else would be fishing for compliments, so Steve didn't ask if that was a bad or a good thing. He just assumed that if he looked too ridiculous, Tony would have said something. There was no way Tony would have passed up the chance of teasing him about his suit. 

The dinner was... well, banquets like this hadn't actually improved since Steve had been paraded around with the USO. It wasn't bad, though, and Tony was doing his best to be charming to the other people at the table: two of the award winners and their plus ones, and the emcee of the event and her partner.

Steve would have to thank Tony for that. He probably wasn't enjoying making small talk with a table full of public school teachers, but he talked about the Knicks, and rolled his eyes at Steve when Steve said, "Sorry, I'm a Nets fan. Once they moved to Brooklyn, I had no choice," in a way that looked affectionate even to Steve, who knew better. 

Tony had even suggested a Stark Industries tech grant that the award winner, who worked in a school library, might want to apply for; it would let them upgrade the school computer network. "Mention my name, it can't hurt." 

It definitely couldn't hurt, Steve thought, because that was the first time he'd heard of that particular program. That could just be because he didn't know everything about Tony's company, but he suspected that grant didn't exist, though it would by tomorrow morning.

If they were really together, Steve thought, he would love Tony so much right now that his heart would be bursting with it. 

But they weren't, so he just finished his meal and went over the note cards for his presentation of the awards one last time, trying to keep his gaze from lingering on Tony for too long. 

Tony was making that difficult, though, especially when their dinner plates were cleared and dessert was being served. He reached over and placed his hand on Steve's, where it was resting on Steve's knee under the table. 

People were going to notice that, Steve reminded himself. Even if it was under the table, people would notice, and it would make their act look more believable. Affectionate. 

He turned his hand over so that he could hold Tony's, and Tony squeezed his hand lightly. Steve was sure that his smile looked ridiculous, but then again, he was allowed, right? As far as these people knew, he and Tony were in love, and it was natural for Steve to be looking at him fondly. 

Marian, the emcee, nudged her partner with her elbow. "Ah, young love," she said. "We were like that once, weren't we, Kate?" 

Kate rolled her eyes without even looking up from her chocolate cake. "You were like that at dinner with my parents yesterday," she said. 

"Also," Steve said, "Young love? I'm probably older than your grandparents." Marian looked to be in her late thirties--older than Steve looked right now, but still, probably not born in 1918.

"New love, then," she said. "It's still always good to see."

Steve nodded. "I grew up thinking I would never have anything like this," he said. "At least, not in public. The best I could hope for if I fell in love with a man was something in private, a circle of friends who would understand. And now..." He shook his head. "We're riding in a parade. Tony can hold my hand in public, and nothing happens. It's hard to take in sometime." 

She smiled warmly at him. "A lot has changed since I was a kid, even," she said. "And a lot more will change by the time the kids today are our age. But it's going to take a lot of work, and I'm glad you've decided to help us with it." 

Steve couldn't answer right away. He was glad, too, grateful that the picture someone had snapped of him and Tony in a completely platonic moment had led him to this. But it was a lot to take in, sometimes. 

Tony squeezed his hand again, his thumb rubbing over Steve's skin. It was comforting, even if it made Steve want to feel Tony's touch on more than just his hand. He hoped that the warmth spreading through him from the point where their hands touched wasn't obvious to anyone else. Or at least, not to Tony. 

"We both want to help," Tony said, when Steve was silent. "I'm not the one for inspiring speeches unless they're about engineering, but I'm great at writing checks." 

"Checks help," Marian said. "You probably also know the right people for us to talk to if we want to get things done."

"Some of them don't even hate me," Tony agreed. That got a laugh from the rest of the table, even if Steve knew that Tony wasn't entirely joking.

Then it was time for the awards presentation, and not long after that, Steve and Tony were heading out into the night. 

"Thanks for that," Steve said. "I know it's not exactly your kind of thing--" 

"Did I say that? One, I'm used to that kind of event, and two, I had a good evening. I promise. In fact, I'm not even ready for it to be over yet." He grinned at Steve. "Now, in the old days, I'd have dragged my date off to a party or a club to balance out all the earnest goodwill of that awards dinner..." 

Steve must have grimaced, because Tony laughed. "But that was before I was settled down with someone who definitely isn't a party animal. Don't make that face, Rogers, I was just going to suggest we go get coffee." 

"I'd like that," Steve said. "But we don't have to. I mean, we've made a public appearance as a couple tonight, we don't have to do any more."

"Oh, that," Tony said, shaking his head. "No. I meant it. I enjoyed tonight, especially the company. Come and have coffee with me." 

"I'd love to," Steve said, and Tony's answering smile felt so real that it broke Steve's heart.

****

Normally, even when Steve got up for his morning workout at his usual time, he was the only person moving on the Avengers' floors of the tower. By the time he got back from his run and went to the gym, Natasha was usually awake, and maybe someone else, but the rest of his team generally liked sleeping past sunrise.

Steve would have liked it too, but he didn't just need less sleep than he had before the serum. That wasn't surprising, because back then, he'd been tired all the time. It turned out, though, that he also needed less sleep than most people. Six hours a night was more than enough these days; he could get by on less if he had to, and it was a rare morning when he didn't wake up, fully rested, by five a.m. 

But today, he had a meeting with Maria Hill at SHIELD HQ, so he'd set an alarm for four, not wanting to disrupt his routine more than he had to. The quinjet taking him to DC was leaving at eight. He'd have plenty of time to get in his usual workout and prepare for his day.

And today, when he stopped in the kitchen to grab a piece of fruit before he headed out for his run, Tony was sitting at the table, coffee in front of him, poking irritably at a tablet. 

"Isn't this early even for you?" Tony asked when Steve came in. 

"I have to be in DC this morning, remember?" 

Tony chuckled. "I don't usually remember my meetings, let alone yours." 

"What about you?" Steve decided to pour himself some coffee and sit down to eat his apple. He had time. If necessary, he'd skip the rest of his workout and just go for a run. "Late night in the lab?" He and Tony hadn't made any public appearances for the last few days; Tony had been focused on finishing his most recent version of the Iron Man armor. 

That was fine; that was what Steve would have expected if he'd really been dating Tony. Sometimes--probably a lot of the time--work was going to take priority. Steve tended to do that too, so he couldn't complain.

Besides, Steve was going to be monopolizing Tony's entire weekend with the city's Pride festival. If he didn't get enough time in the lab beforehand, he'd probably go into withdrawal. 

"No. Well, yes, by your standards, but not for me. I wrapped up at around two or so." Tony picked up his mug and frowned into it. "You'd think I'd remember drinking this." He got up and refilled it, took a long drink, and then topped it up before sitting down again. 

Steve frowned. "And you were too keyed up to sleep?"

"Hey," Tony said, "we're not really dating, you don't need to nag me about my sleep habits."

Steve took a bite of apple to give himself a second to think of what to say. "I'm not nagging you," he said. "I'm curious. And maybe a little concerned. But in the end, you're an adult, and if you want to try surviving on caffeine and adrenaline, that's up to you." 

Tony blinked at him. "I thought you'd disapprove." 

"I'm not saying I approve." And if they'd really been a couple, Steve would have made a point of getting Tony in bed at a decent hour. Though if they'd really been a couple, Steve would have had a fairly strong lure to use. "I'm just saying that arguing with you isn't likely to work." 

"It's like you know me." Tony was smiling slightly, and Steve smiled back. 

"Anyway," Tony went on, "no, I went to bed. I just... decided that sleeping was not in my best interests." 

"I've had nights like that." The apple was gnawed down to the core; Steve tossed it into the trash and concentrated on drinking his coffee. 

"I'm not sure which is worse," Tony said. He wasn't looking at Steve, but Steve was pretty sure that Tony wasn't just talking to himself. "The times when I just relive what actually happened, or the times when I get 3D surround-sound versions of what would have happened if I'd failed." 

Steve got that, too. "The latter," he said. "For me, anyway. At least going into the ice was just bad for me." For Peggy, too, and the remaining Commandos, and maybe Howard. But they'd have mourned him no matter how they'd lost him. It was sad, but not a horror the way it was for him. "If Hydra had succeeded, millions of people would have died, and life would have become a nightmare for the rest."

Tony shook his head slowly. "Aren't we a pair." 

"We really are." Steve forced a smile. "But we're here. That's a good thing." Mostly. He'd regretted that a lot when he'd first been revived, but less and less over time. A lot less after he'd met the others. He had a home. He had friends. He had a purpose. That helped in more ways than he could put into words. 

And he had Tony. Maybe not the way he wanted to, but Tony's friendship, laced with rivalry though it was, had become important to him. He would never have predicted that; when they'd first met, he'd assumed he would be glad to never have to work with, or even see, Tony Stark again. 

He was glad he'd been wrong. 

"Is it?" Tony said. He shrugged. "No, I know it is. I'm not actually sorry I'm alive, don't get me wrong. It's just a bad night. Morning. Whatever."

Steve made a few mental calculations. As long as he was ready to get on the quinjet by eight, everything would be fine. He never took long to shower and dress, so he had until seven-thirty. It wasn't four-thirty yet. 

"Come on," he said. "You look like a man who needs pancakes." 

Tony frowned slightly. "I do?" 

"Yeah. And I have enough time before my meeting. There's an all-night diner not that far from here. Let's go get breakfast." 

"More evidence for our supposed romance?" Tony said, draining his coffee cup and getting up. 

Steve hadn't even thought of it that way. He'd just thought that Tony needed to get out of his head a little. Maybe both of them did. A short walk, good food, pleasant company, and maybe Tony would be able to get a little sleep before he needed to start his day. 

Even if he didn't, he'd be in a better frame of mind, and so would Steve. 

But if Tony wanted to think of this as another potential photo opportunity, Steve wasn't going to stop him. It'd probably make things easier, in the long run, than for Steve to try to explain.

****

Tony wasn't drunk.

Tony couldn't possibly be drunk, because he and Steve had been together all day, and he hadn't been drinking anything but water.

So there was absolutely no explanation that Steve could see for Tony's ebullient mood today, or for the fact that he'd let a woman with pink hair paint a rainbow flag on his right cheek, or the collection of rubber bracelets, in a wide spectrum of colors, representing a dizzying array of causes, that he had around both wrists. 

"This is great," Tony said, digging in his pocket and dropping some cash into a jar that said it was for donations to a project to provide medication subsidies to people living with HIV. He'd been doing that to any donation jar they passed. Not that he couldn't afford it; Steve just figured Tony wasn't going to donate money that couldn't be used as a tax write-off. 

Of course, Steve had also figured that Tony would be only pretending to enjoy himself at the Pride festival, and clearly, that wasn't the case. He'd seen Tony pretending to enjoy himself before, and this wasn't it. 

Well, it could have been it, but not when Tony was sober. 

"Seriously?" Steve said. 

Tony didn't answer him. "Hang on, I need to get a picture of this," he said, snapping a photo of a kid walking around in a Captain America costume, ready for Pride with a rainbow shield. He went over and spoke briefly to the two women accompanying the child, showing them his phone and gesturing toward Steve. 

Two seconds later, the kid shrieked, "CAPPAN 'MERICA!" and launched a tackle-hug in Steve's direction. They misjudged distance, though, and only Steve reaching out to grab them prevented them from face-planting on the ground. 

That just meant that the enthusiastic hug that Steve got was around his neck, not his knees. 

"I am so sorry," one of the women said. She was somewhere between Steve and Tony in age, with short hair and deep brown skin. She was also visibly pregnant; Steve couldn't imagine how exhausted she must be walking around in this heat. "We've been trying to teach her not to do that, but..."

"Halloween was bad," the other, a tall blonde that Steve was impressed Tony managed not to stare at, added. "She hugged everyone in a Captain America costume, and that was before you came out." She shook her head, smiling. 

"I have two mommies," the girl informed him. "And two daddies. And Mama's growing a baby for Daddy and Dad." 

"And Captain America doesn't need our life story," the first woman said gently, coming over to Steve and disentangling the girl from him. "Tell him it was nice to meet him, Mandy, and then we're going to let him and Mr. Stark go on with their day."

"Tony, please," Tony said. "You're letting me put a picture of your adorable kid on the internet, the least I can do is let you call me by my first name. And, if you'll let me, send you the picture, before I blur her face." Then he paused. "Actually--Steve, you want to take her again? Let's give Mandy's moms a nice picture for her bedroom wall." 

Steve took Mandy back from her mother, and they both smiled for the camera, with Mandy's arms twined around his neck and her head resting against his cheek. 

"If you don't mind letting us have a mailing address," Tony said, "I'll send her a framed copy of this." 

"You don't have to do that," said Mandy's blonde mother. But she introduced herself and her wife to them; she was Angela, and her wife was Tricia. Tricia let Tony put his number into her phone, and then texted him their address.

"Tell you a secret," Tony said. "I'm not doing it for you guys. I'm doing it because of what his face looked like when he saw your kid dressed like that." 

Steve felt his face getting a lot hotter than the sun would account for. Tony was good at this. He hadn't expected that. 

But then, because they had to be convincing, Tony was making a real effort every time they were out in public. It would be different if they really were together, he reminded himself. Tony wouldn't be trying so hard. 

Tony and Tricia finished exchanging contact information--Steve knew that Tony had a phone number just for giving out in situations like this, one that JARVIS filtered for him, so at least he didn't have to worry that Tony would acquire a nuisance because he tried to be nice to Steve. And the fact that this was all in support of the act didn't mean that Steve couldn't appreciate it.

****

Early July had been chaotic last year, and this year was even worse. Everyone wanted Captain America to speak at their Independence Day event.

Some places had canceled, but that just meant that people who had received a polite "Captain Rogers is already booked for that day" were getting a second chance, if they wanted him. 

Enough people wanted him that Steve left New York the morning after the Pride parade and didn't come back until the next Tuesday. 

He didn't look to see if anyone on the internet was speculating that there was a rift between him and Tony. He got enough questions about Tony, or his relationship with Tony, during his various appearances that he assumed people understood that the two of them couldn't be together constantly. In his answers, he tried to give the impression that he was happy, although he missed Tony when they had to be apart. 

That wasn't too difficult, because he did miss Tony. 

They'd been spending a lot of time together. In public, of course; not just scheduled events, but if one of them wanted to go to lunch, the other one usually came along. Steve liked going to small art galleries when he had the time, looking at the works of new artists and buying the ones he especially liked. It was hard to wrap his brain around the idea that he could afford to buy art, just because he wanted it on his wall, but he did enjoy it.

Tony had started coming along with him on those outings. Once he'd even taken pictures of a painting and texted them to Pepper, who promptly bought the painting in question for her apartment, so he was even paying at least a little attention to what they were doing.

So of course, when Steve spent nine days doing nothing but traveling and giving speeches, he was going to miss Tony. 

It hadn't occurred to him until his last night away that he could have called Tony. Even though no one would know whether or not he had, even though it contributed nothing to their pretense. 

He could have called Tony simply because Tony was his friend, and Tony probably would have made the time to talk to him. On speakerphone, probably, while he worked, but that would have made it even more like Steve was right there with him. 

But it was the last night, and he would be back in New York by mid-morning, so he hadn't. 

Tony had met him at the airport, like a good fake boyfriend, and when Steve hugged him--for the benefit of anyone watching, and also because he wanted to--Tony mumbled, "I missed you," into Steve's neck, for the benefit of anyone listening. 

"I missed you, too," Steve said, because he wanted to. 

Steve spent a couple of days in the tower, getting his life back in order after a week away, reading over some SHIELD reports that would probably lead to a STRIKE mission eventually, and realizing that even though he'd intended to give Tony his space when they were in private, Tony didn't really want space. 

Steve was even invited to Tony's lab to watch him work, and was able to fill page after page of his sketchbook with drawings of Tony with his robots, Tony in a welding apron and goggles, Tony rearranging holographic elements on a display with the flick of a hand. 

Steve's favorite was of Tony, eye-level with one of his helmets, performing finite adjustments. That sketch made it look like Tony was having a heart-to-heart talk with Iron Man; he wondered what Tony would think of it if he showed him. 

Steve decided not to show him. He'd drawn Tony too often during the hours he spent in the lab, even though he'd also brought paperwork with him to keep himself occupied, and that wasn't a confession he felt like making. 

The next week, Tony had had a speaking engagement at MIT, and Steve had gone along with him. Afterward, they'd toured the campus, Tony pointing out various buildings and telling stories about himself and Rhodey as undergraduates. 

At one point, outside the Kresge Auditorium, Steve saw another couple who looked to be in their late thirties. The woman was animatedly explaining something to the man, who was smiling and nodding in much the same way Steve was. 

The man caught Steve's eye and gave him a rueful grin. Steve smiled back in solidarity, and then caught himself. 

Not that smiling back at the guy was wrong; even given that Steve and Tony weren't really a couple, he and the man were in the same situation, being shown locations for stories that usually ended with, "You probably had to be there." 

But there'd been such fondness in the way the man had looked at his companion and shrugged slightly, and Steve had felt an echoing fondness for Tony welling up in him. This place helped make Tony who he was, and even though it meant nothing to Steve personally, he loved it, because he loved Tony. 

Steve didn't know how long their act would continue. Probably not that much longer; Tony was going to want to start having a real social life again eventually. When it ended, Steve was going to have to work hard to move past the way he felt about Tony. But for right now, maybe he could just let himself enjoy it. 

On the jet back to New York, Tony kept starting to say something to Steve, and then changing his mind. Eventually, though, he said, "Thanks. For today, I mean. I know it can't have been much fun for you, listening to me talk about AI development and then looking at a bunch of buildings."

"I had a great day," Steve said. "This was important to you, and so I wanted to be here."

Tony's forehead furrowed a little, but then he said, "Right, okay, great. Anyway, thanks. I like doing this, but it was still good knowing I'd have a friendly face in the audience." 

"Any time," Steve said. He meant it, too. Even when this was over, if Tony wanted a friendly face in the crowd, Steve could do that. 

Tony looked startled, and maybe a little pleased, but he didn't comment, and Steve didn't have anything else to add, so they let it drop. 

Their next speaking engagement together was in late July, at a rally celebrating the second anniversary of the Marriage Equality Act in New York and campaigning for nationwide marriage equality. 

That was the kind of cause Steve wanted to support. It also sounded like the kind of cause that would infuriate bigots. Even the more "tolerant" ones, who thought people like Steve should be allowed to exist, and even to have relationships, didn't like the thought that Steve might marry another man. 

So, double win, and Tony was happy to come with him. There was a series of short speeches; Steve and Tony were the last ones to speak.

"Because," one of the organizers said, "once Captain America and Iron Man take the stage, everyone's going to be all about you guys. I mean, you're great, we need the high-profile support, we're happy you're here, but I have to be realistic." 

They took the stage together; Tony spoke first, keeping his message short and to the point: they had a lot to celebrate here in New York, but there was still a long way to go, and he was honored to be a part of it. 

Steve's own speech was more of the same, but he let himself inject a more personal note to it: this was something he'd never even imagined as a possibility, when he was young. He'd imagined being able to live openly with a man, not having to fear arrest or ostracization, and even that had seemed like a wild dream. And now, here in the city where he'd been born, it was a reality. 

And for the entire country, it was at least a possibility, something they could fight for. 

Sometime during his speech, Tony had come to stand beside him and taken his hand. It felt right to raise their hands up in the air at the end of it, and then turn to Tony and kiss him, there on stage. 

The organizers had arranged a Q&A session afterward, because they knew a lot of people would have come just to hear Steve and Tony talk. Not that they didn't sincerely support the cause, but that was what actually got them to show up here. 

Steve really should have been expecting the first question, from a guy with shaggy blond hair and a "Queer Rights Are Human Rights" t-shirt: "So, Captain America, does this mean that you and Iron Man will be tying the knot soon?" 

He hadn't been, though, and for a second, all he could do was blink. 

Fortunately, Tony swooped in to save the day; he leaned in closer to the microphone and said, "That depends on the U.S. government. Steve and I have decided that we're not even going to discuss marriage until it would be valid in the entire country. Just because we're lucky enough to live in New York, that doesn't mean that we should have rights that other Americans don't." 

It was a good answer, and Steve felt like, if this had been a real relationship, it would have been a true one. Steve didn't like the thought of having a marriage that might not exist if a mission took them to the wrong state. Leaving the country would still always possibly be an issue, but at the very least, they should be able to trust that their marriage would be valid everywhere in the nation. 

And it wasn't right that people living in other parts of the country didn't have the same rights, either. 

So yes, Steve liked that answer, and he nodded, smiling gratefully at Tony. "And I agree with that completely," he said. 

"Does that mean that as soon as the entire country has marriage equality, you'll be getting married?"

Steve shook his head. "No, it means that after that point, we might discuss it. But that's a conversation that we'd prefer to have privately, not in front of a crowd." 

"He hasn't even asked me yet," Tony said. Then, to Steve, he added, "And since you're an old-fashioned guy, I expect the ring, the going down on one knee, the whole deal." Steve looked at Tony's shoulder, because looking him in the eye felt dangerous, while the audience chuckled. 

That seemed to satisfy the questioner, and the rest of the audience members who had questions for them tended to focus on what Steve and Tony intended to do to support the cause of marriage equality, with the occasional question about the Avengers thrown in, rather than anything personal. 

They got through the rest of the session with ease, and then Steve and Tony shook a few hands, Steve signed autographs for a couple of kids, and they both agreed to plenty of pictures. After an hour or so of that, it was time to go. 

Tony was quiet on the way home, and Steve wondered if he'd realized just how lucky they were that they'd come up with an excuse to not get married, or even engaged. It'd be a while, Steve thought, before the federal government came around to the idea of equality, and by then, they'd be finished with this pretend relationship. 

But if they weren't... Steve shook his head and decided he needed to lighten the mood. "You don't strike me as the kind of guy who'd need all the traditional trappings of a proposal."

Tony shrugged. "I'm also not the kind of guy who either proposes marriage or gets proposed to, so I don't have to worry about it." 

"You didn't think about marrying Pepper?" Steve asked, and then wished he hadn't. Tony had been fairly close-mouthed about what happened with Pepper, and Steve had always respected that. 

"Thinking about it isn't the same thing as doing it. So no, this is probably as close as I've ever come to getting married." He shook his head, chuckling softly. "Ridiculous." 

"Not really. I mean, if you're not interested in getting married, then... a theoretical discussion about getting married to someone you're only pretending to date would be as close as you need to get." 

"Yeah. But hey, thanks. If it wasn't for you, and this whole scheme--I mean, obviously I give a lot of money to a lot of causes, and it's not entirely because of the tax write-off. I mean, it's _mostly_ for the tax write-off, but I don't just give the money at random. But I wouldn't have started showing up at this kind of thing, and..." He took a deep breath. "I think I like it. Speaking out somewhere other than Congressional hearings." 

"At least you're getting something out of this," Steve said. "I feel better about asking you now." 

"I'm getting a lot out of this," he said. "I keep telling you, I'm having fun."

"Enough fun that you want to get coffee before we go home?"

Tony checked the time. Steve hadn't looked, but he knew it was getting late in the afternoon. "Enough fun that I'd rather get dinner before we go home," he said. 

If he'd been dating Tony, Steve would have kissed him right then, but there wasn't enough of an audience for him to be able to justify it, so he settled for smiling. "I'm okay with that." 

Even that might have been too much, because Tony turned to look out the window. "Great," he said, but there was a note of tension in his voice that made Steve wish he'd said no.

****

"I met with a reporter from _Business Planet_ magazine today," Tony said, settling down on the couch next to Steve. Technically, there was an office in Steve's apartment, with a comfortable desk he could work at to complete his SHIELD paperwork.

With JARVIS's help, Steve had no problem doing the paperwork online the way SHIELD preferred. He didn't like to, though, so he printed the forms, completed them by hand, and then let JARVIS digitize and upload the results. It was a compromise that worked for everyone: Steve got to work the way he preferred, and Director Fury got his paperwork the way he wanted it. 

But that got lonely, so Steve tended to pull the coffee table closer to one of the couches in the lounge, and work where there would at least be someone passing through from time to time. 

Or deciding to come and sit with him while he worked. 

Tony was apparently planning to stay a while, since not only did he have a mug of coffee for himself, but he'd also brought one for Steve. 

"Thanks," Steve said, accepting the cup and taking a drink. "And, how did that go?" 

"Pretty well," Tony said. "It was mostly about the company--about how Stark Industries has reinvented itself, five years after we got out of the weapons business. But there were a few questions about me." He hesitated. "Or us, anyway." 

"Is that surprising?" 

"Not really. The interviewer talked to Pepper first, so that's where she got a lot of the details about the business. She only talked to me because even if I'm not running the show, I'm still the face of SI, and I'm the one who made the decision to get out of the arms business." He shrugged. "But I just wanted to give you a heads up." 

Steve nodded. "Thanks." 

Steve never read _Business Planet_ , though he might have picked up a copy if he saw Tony's face on the cover. That was how he'd started reading some popular science and technology-themed publications: wanting to understand his teammate better. 

Now he read them because they helped him keep up with both the Avengers and his STRIKE team. He didn't mind the jokes about him being a dinosaur, but he didn't actually want to be a fossil, unable to move past what was familiar to him. 

Especially since technology and the future were so important to Tony, and Tony was so important to Steve. 

Even if Steve would probably never have seen the magazine, he appreciated Tony letting him know that he was mentioned in the interview. It helped to know what Tony told people about their relationship. 

Tony didn't seem inclined to say anything else; he gave JARVIS a few directions, set his phone down on the table, and started poking at a small holographic display projected from the device. Steve watched him for a moment, but then picked up his clipboard and got back to trying to phrase his mission report in such a way that he wouldn't get it back with some very pointed notes from Fury. 

Steve was thinking about going to get more coffee when Tony spoke up again. "You know, I thought I was making it all up, but this is one of the things I mentioned in that interview."

"What?" Steve wasn't sure what there was to mention. Maybe Tony had been gently making fun of his insistence on doing paperwork the old-fashioned way? 

"That since we're both so busy, it's good that we can enjoy just being near one another, even if we're both working on our own projects. That you come in and keep me company in the lab and do your paperwork. That kind of thing." He shrugged. "It sounded good--nice and domestic, you know? But it's also true." 

Steve nodded, then decided that it was a good time to go to the kitchen for more coffee before he said something too revealing. "Want a refill?" he asked, reaching for Tony's cup, since he knew what the answer was going to be. 

"It's like you can read my mind." 

Steve took both cups and went to the kitchen. There was a station just inside the doorway that held a coffee maker, an electric kettle for anyone who preferred tea, and a small refrigerator for cream and milk. The catering staff usually put some snacks in that area, too. Today there was a bowl of fruit and a plastic-covered tray of some kind of muffins. 

Well, Steve pretty much always could find room for a snack, since the serum, and Tony never remembered to keep regular mealtimes. Steve cut two oranges into quarters and put them on a plate with a couple of the muffins, then filled his mug and Tony's. Balancing the plate carefully on his forearm, he carried it and their coffee back to the lounge.

"You know," Tony said, looking up with a smile, "if this crime-fighting thing doesn't work out for you, you're a natural at waiting tables."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks," he added, as Tony took the plate and set it down on the table, freeing Steve's hands so he could set down the coffee. "I was getting hungry and thought you might be, too."

"I'm good," Tony said, but he reached for one of the muffins anyway.

Without discussing it, they both seemed to have decided that they were taking a break, at least from their individual projects. Steve had some suggestions for simulations to be programmed into their training room, and he and Tony kicked those ideas around for a while until Tony nodded. 

"Yeah, I think that's a solid enough set of parameters that I can code it in," he said. "When's our next team training?" 

"Not until next Tuesday; Clint and Natasha are out in the field."

"No problem, then. I should have something ready for the two of us to try out on Sunday afternoon, and then if there are any changes I need to make, I can do it before Tuesday." 

"It's not that urgent," Steve said. He knew Tony had a lot of projects on his plate, both for Stark Industries and for the Avengers. There were plenty of simulations in the training room that they could use on Tuesday. 

"You don't ask me for much," Tony said. "And besides, this is mostly coding. I can work on it in the middle of the night if I can't sleep, without even having to put on pants to go down to the lab." 

"I don't ask you for--Tony, you built this tower for us," he said. "And everything else you do for the team, besides."

"You didn't ask me to do any of that," Tony argued. "The team needs it, or I wanted to do it, or both. I mean you, Steve Rogers, specifically asking me to do something."

"Just 'spend several months of your life pretending to date me'?" 

Tony chuckled. "It hasn't really been a hardship." 

Steve was still trying to decide how to reply to that--no, it wasn't a hardship, but it was still a significant favor--when JARVIS cut in. 

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but you asked me to remind you fifteen minutes before your meeting with Ms. Potts." 

"Is it that late already?" Tony glanced at his phone. "Guess it is. Thanks, J. Let her know I'm on my way down." 

He pocketed his phone, stood up, and brushed a couple of wayward muffin crumbs from his shirt. Then he frowned, looking at Steve for a few long seconds. "Gotta keep in practice. You never know who's watching," he said, which left Steve bewildered, until Tony bent down and kissed him. Not even on the cheek; it was a quick kiss, but on the mouth, like none of this was a pretense at all. 

That did nothing to relieve Steve's confusion, but before he could say anything, Tony was out the door.

****

A week later, they still hadn't talked about the kiss.

They'd talked about just about everything else under the sun: the new training program; the black eye and assortment of bandages Clint had come back from his mission with (Natasha just smiled and said "Ask Clint," when anyone asked her about them, and Clint told anyone who took her advice to go to hell, so there was obviously a story there); the closure of the team's favorite Thai place; whether the catering staff should keep bringing bran muffins even though nobody but Steve was willing to eat them, and even he didn't like them.

But when Steve tried to bring up the subject of the kiss, he never even managed to get the words out.

Tony had kissed him before. It was part of the image they were trying to present, and Steve had done his best to think of it as acting. It didn't mean anything, any more than two characters kissing in the movies meant the actors felt anything for one another. 

But nobody had been watching, and Tony had kissed him. Steve couldn't even bring himself to ask why, because he was afraid that calling attention to it would make things awkward between him and Tony. 

He liked the way things were between them now. He thought a lot of it would last, even after they stopped pretending to be a couple. Steve would still go to the lab while Tony worked, if Tony let him. They'd still get coffee for one another, and they'd probably still go to some of the same events. Even the ones for marriage equality and LGBT rights, because they'd both made commitments. 

And obviously, theirs would be an amicable breakup, since there weren't any real feelings involved. 

But if Steve made things awkward, then this new, closer friendship might not last, and getting an answer to his questions wasn't worth that risk. 

Besides, Tony never did it again.

Not even tonight, when they'd gone out to another fundraiser--this one in support of a shelter for kids who were homeless because they were gay or trans--and then out for coffee and pancakes afterward, which was becoming a habit. The staff at this  
diner were getting used to seeing Iron Man and Captain America, in tuxedos or nice suits, drinking coffee and laughing and arguing about whether pancakes were better with maple syrup or with strawberries.

Steve was getting used to it, too. In general, that was fine, but the problem was that Tony kissed him as they were coming out of the hotel--just in case anyone was taking pictures, of course--and Steve was getting used to that, too. 

He was getting so used to it that, even though it surprised him when Tony got off the elevator at Steve's floor--"What kind of a date would I be if I didn't walk you to your door?" he'd said, laughing--it surprised him even more when they said good night, and Tony didn't kiss him. 

That was it, he decided. He couldn't keep doing this. He'd outraged enough bigots, and he'd made it clear enough that he was supporting these causes not just because it was the right thing to do, which it was, but because he had a personal stake in them. Anything else was just tormenting himself. 

Besides, Tony still went silent at odd times, or looked out of the window when the were in the car together instead of looking at Steve, and so Steve thought that he was having regrets about ever having agreed to this. 

Maybe there was someone else Tony was interested in, but couldn't say anything because he didn't want to be the man who two-timed Captain America. 

Or maybe he was just tired of pretending. The fun was wearing off for both of them, so it was time to put a stop to it. They could "break up." 

Tony would make a few appearances with a gorgeous woman on his arm, Steve would make a few appearances alone, since the thought of finding his own gorgeous person to take to events wasn't all that appealing, and everyone would stop talking about them eventually. 

That didn't feel satisfying, either, though. Maybe they should come clean. 

Maybe he should talk to Tony about it before he decided, but if he couldn't even say, "So, why did you kiss me last Thursday?" he wasn't sure he was going to be able to bring this up, either.

****

Steve hadn't planned things to go this way.

He really had meant to talk to Tony about how they were going to bring an end to their pretend relationship, but somehow, he hadn't been able to find the words. 

But still, he'd meant to have that conversation before he said anything. 

And then, just a few minutes ago, he'd been sitting on the couch on-set at _Mornings with Megan_ , the same place he'd given his first interview after his "relationship" with Tony had gone public, and Megan McLaren had brought up their recent appearances at marriage equality events. 

"So, does that mean we can expect an exciting announcement from the two of you soon?" she'd asked. 

Steve had intended to repeat a version of the statement Tony had made at the first event; it had become their standard answer to that kind of question. 

Instead, he'd heard himself saying, "Actually, Ms. McLaren, I have an announcement to make now. I don't know how exciting it is, but... I have to be honest. Tony Stark and I... we're not together anymore." 

"You broke up?" she said, leaning toward him sympathetically. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"No," Steve said. "I mean... it's personal. And, uh, painful." And he was piling lies upon lies, but what else was he supposed to do? He'd like to think that everything he'd said, all the people he'd apparently inspired or encouraged, would still count if he confessed to what he and Tony had done. 

After all, he was still bisexual, and he still meant everything he'd said. Including every single word he'd said about being in love with Tony, for that matter. 

But Steve wasn't that naive. If Captain America publicly admitted to lying--not to protect someone from a criminal, not to preserve national secrets, but as a _public relations strategy_ \--then there'd be no coming back from that, not for a lot of people. 

The fact that telling another lie made him feel even worse about this whole situation didn't matter. How _other_ people felt was more important, and he was going to disappoint, maybe even hurt, a lot of people if he came clean. 

Megan McLaren was still leaning toward him, still looking sympathetic. "I can only imagine," she said. "I mean... Tony Stark. I don't mean to belittle any of his accomplishments, and obviously, he's an Avenger, he's helped to save the world, but he's also been involved in a number of scandals." 

She reached out and patted Steve's hand. "I think we were all surprised that you were involved with someone with his reputation to begin with." 

"Why wouldn't I be?" Steve said. "Tony Stark is one of the greatest--and _best_ \--men I've ever known, and he isn't to blame. I'm the one who ended things between us, and it wasn't because Tony lied to me, or cheated on me, or whatever it is that you're imagining he did." 

Time for the truth, even if it was told in a misleading way. "I ended things between us because I realized that he and I--we didn't feel the same way about one another, and things were never going to work because of it." 

He took a deep breath. "All those stories you've heard about Tony? I don't know if they're true or not. They're probably all at least partly true, though. But the Tony Stark I know? He's so much more than that. He's so much _better_ than that."

McLaren leaned back, an eyebrow raised. "It sounds like things might not be as over between the two of you as you imply? Are you having second thoughts?"

"No," Steve said firmly. "No. I'll always admire and respect Tony. I'll always be proud to call him my teammate and my friend. But any romantic involvement between the two of us is over. Nobody did anything wrong," he reiterated, because the thought that people might think Tony had hurt him was unacceptable. 

Okay, Tony had hurt him, but that wasn't Tony's fault. You couldn't blame someone for not being in love with you. That wasn't something they did to you. 

McLaren was still looking at him doubtfully, and so Steve added, "Sometimes people just aren't compatible. Maybe you're perfect for one another on paper, but there's just not that spark." Or only one person feels it, and the other person...

Well, Tony would be glad to be free of this particular obligation, and Steve was sure there'd be plenty of women who'd be happy to heal Tony's supposedly broken heart. 

"That's a very healthy attitude," she said. "But tell me, how come we hadn't heard about this before now?"

Steve managed a slight smile. "It's very recent," he said. "I probably should have let the Avengers' publicist make a statement, but I was already scheduled to appear on your show, and I just couldn't pretend." Couldn't pretend _anymore_ , at least.

"Well, we all appreciate you opening up to us like this." Steve could almost hear Tony's voice in his head, scoffing that she appreciated the ratings boost. There were probably interns backstage tweeting about it right now to get more viewers. 

"I'm sure the audience has some questions for you, so let's start taking those now." 

The questions weren't too bad. They were almost all about the breakup, and Steve just kept falling back on "It's very painful" and "We just weren't compatible," and refusing to give any specifics. 

The specifics, of course, were "Tony's straight" and "Tony's definitely not in love with me," and revealing either of those would mean admitting that he'd been lying all along.

He still hated that he was getting out of one lie with another, but at least this could be the end of it. 

And then Steve's segment was over; he thought he'd been scheduled for a longer appearance, but that wasn't a problem. He was glad he'd mis-remembered that; he just wanted to get back to the green room so he could call Tony. 

Tony didn't normally watch local morning shows, but he'd known Steve was going to be on _Mornings with Megan_ , and even if he didn't watch, he'd be hearing about it soon enough. Steve didn't even want to wait until he was back at the tower to let Tony know what he'd done. 

When he got to the green room, he discovered that he didn't have to tell Tony: he already knew. 

"The producers called me yesterday," Tony said. "They wanted me to join you for the second half of your interview. Which, I have to admit, is going to be really fun now. I guess that's why they wanted me?" 

Steve shook his head. "They didn't know. I didn't know I was going to say that, until I did." Tony looked visibly upset; if Steve had known it would bother him that much for Steve to make a statement without talking to him first, Steve would have tried harder to stop himself from blurting out the truth. 

He'd assumed Tony wouldn't mind, because it wasn't like Tony was ever a big fan of sticking to a plan. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was coming back here to call you so at least you wouldn't be the last to know." 

And maybe he'd just been imagining Tony's expression when he'd walked in, because now Tony gave him an easy smile. "No problem. I mean, I'm going to have to pretend that this isn't the first I'm hearing over it, but I can bullshit with the best of them, so that'd be fine." 

Before Steve could answer, a production assistant came into the room. "Mr. Stark, we're ready for you."

"I'm sorry," Steve said again, as Tony let himself be hustled out, but he wasn't sure if Tony heard him.

****

It wasn't a complete disaster.

Tony had done the second segment of _Mornings with Megan_ on his own, instead of with Steve beside him. Steve had watched from the green room; Tony had followed along with what Steve had said: the break-up was amicable, they were still friends, Steve was one of the finest men Tony had ever known, no one was to blame. 

"It turned out that we wanted different things," Tony had said, looking so wistful that Steve almost believed they'd really broken up. 

Tony got slightly more pointed questions than Steve had: "Did you cheat?" "Did _he_ cheat?" but, as Steve would have expected, Tony handled those with aplomb, and without putting any blame on Steve. 

Which was more than Steve would have expected, since Tony was obviously angry about this. 

Not that Tony said he was angry. It was just so clear to anyone who'd spent as much time watching Tony as Steve had. 

Steve had left before the interview was over; he was waiting for Tony in the lab when Tony got back to the tower. Tony hadn't seemed surprised to see him there, but when Steve had tried again to both apologize and explain, he'd just said, "It had to end sometime, right, Cap? It's not a problem," and given Steve a smile so bright and sharp that looking at it was almost physically painful. 

Even with that smile, Steve might have believed him, except that Tony followed it up with, "Anyway, I'm working on a project for SI right now. It's confidential, so I can't have anyone in the lab with me. You understand, don't you?" 

That was such a tissue-thin excuse that Steve knew Tony was trying to keep things civil between them, that what he wanted was to tell Steve to get the hell of his lab. 

Steve got the hell out of his lab, and was incredibly grateful that Fury contacted him about a STRIKE mission that afternoon. Steve was on his way to DC by dinnertime. 

The STRIKE team had heard what had happened--Rumlow claimed to have an alert set up for news about him, "because you never know, it might affect the team"--and Steve got more than the usual ribbing from them about the whole thing with Tony. 

They'd been okay about it when they thought Steve and Tony were together--if any of them were offended by Steve's bisexuality, they at least knew to keep their mouths shut about it--but now that the relationship was over, they had a lot of "hilarious" comments to make, mostly about Tony, and how good the sex must have been for Steve to be willing to date him even for a few months. 

Steve rolled with the jokes, laughing along even though he couldn't yet find anything funny about the situation. He'd handled it badly, and Tony was angry with him, and that meant he was in danger of losing the one thing that Tony had been able to give him: his friendship. 

Just because Steve wished it was more than that didn't mean Steve didn't value what he'd had. Even if he'd alienated Tony by ending the charade on live TV without even consulting Tony first.

The STRIKE team had been sent to South America, so August was in the middle of winter. The weather was chilly, wet, and dismal, a perfect match to Steve's mood. The mission was a rough one; while they got out of it without any fatalities on either side, there were a lot of injuries, and Rollins was going to be out of commission for at least a few weeks. 

On the other hand, Steve had to admit that being able to punch someone who'd just tried to shoot him was both completely justifiable and very cathartic, at the moment. 

By the time they'd brought their captives in and gone through debriefing at SHIELD, Steve had been away from the tower for almost a week. Enough time, he hoped, that Tony would have been able to forgive him.

And at first, he thought he was right. It was a Thursday, which was one of the nights the team, or whatever parts of the team were in New York, had dinner together, and Steve got back in time to shower, change, and show up in the kitchen just as the food was arriving. 

"Hey, I was right," Tony said, and if his smile wasn't as warm as it had been a week ago, it wasn't that sharp parody of a smile, either. "I said you'd be back in time to eat. We made sure to get enough for you." 

"Thanks," Steve said, and slid into his usual place at the table, right next to where Tony's coffee mug was already sitting even if Tony was at the counter unloading containers of food. 

They'd been sitting in those same spots for months, long before their pretend relationship had started; that hadn't affected anything in the tower. 

But still, when Tony and Bruce finished bringing the food to the table, Tony casually snagged his mug off the table, refilled it, and then sat down at the other end of the table, next to Natasha. 

It didn't necessarily mean anything. Maybe he wanted to talk to Nat. Maybe he just got tired of sitting next to the same person. 

Steve knew better than that, really. Of course it meant something. It meant that Tony felt the need to put some distance between himself and Steve. Not just in public, where it would have made sense since they'd just "broken up," but in the tower as well. It meant that even though Tony was a fairly hands-on person, even before all of this, he didn't want to be close enough to Steve that they could touch. 

He was going to miss that. Not that--that one kiss aside--there had ever been anything about those touches that wasn't completely platonic. But it meant that Tony was drawing back a little from their friendship, and to understate things, that wasn't great. 

Still, things were more or less back to normal, and dinner conversation was, too: updates on the separate missions and projects they were working on, an argument about who had left the water running in the shower attached to the gym, plans for the next team training session. 

And then Natasha said, "How did that interview go today, Tony? _The Advocate_ , right?"

Steve recognized the name of the magazine. They'd talked to him and Tony shortly after they'd announced they were dating. 

"Yeah," Tony said. "Just for the online version, I think. But, you know, pretty standard stuff. I told them the same thing we're telling everyone else: Steve and I broke up, it was a mutual decision, nobody did anything wrong, we just decided that it wasn't working for us." He smiled sharply again. "I might have added that it meant that I'm single and willing to let the right man, woman, or person of any other gender heal my broken heart." 

Steve nearly choked on his garlic bread. 

He'd never claimed to be a genius the way Tony and Bruce were, but he'd always thought of himself as reasonably smart. Better at some things than others, but at least average. 

It turned out that was completely wrong, and he was in fact an _idiot_.

He'd been assuming all along that Tony was willing to pretend to be dating a man because he wasn't a bigot, and because he wanted to help Steve. And since Tony hadn't ever said anything in any of their statements, Steve had assumed that meant that Tony had wanted to reduce the number of lies he'd told, and wasn't going to claim to be something he wasn't. 

Because Steve was, as he'd just realized, an idiot. 

What Tony had said didn't mean anything. Or at least, it didn't necessarily mean anything. But it did give him a new light to evaluate things in. 

It still didn't mean that Tony had meant any of what he'd said or done when they were pretending to be together. But Steve had refused to consider even the possibility that he'd meant any of it, and... that might have been a mistake. 

Steve was silent enough throughout dinner that both Bruce and Natasha asked him if he was okay. "I'm fine," he said. "I just have a lot on my mind." 

"Don't worry," Tony said from the other end of the table. "I'd been thinking that our eventual break-up should be more dramatic, to give people a good show, but this is fine. As long as we don't bad-mouth one another in public, everyone's going to get bored of the story soon. You went off the grid right after the announcement, which kept people interested, but by the end of the week, the world will have moved on."

"I hope so." At least it meant Steve didn't have to lie anymore. "Tony and I aren't together" was nothing more than the truth, and from now on, he could just be honest. This plan had done what Steve had hoped it would, at least; the right wing had given up on Captain America completely. 

"Hey, Tony," he went on, "I have some more ideas for new training simulations. Do you have any time to talk about them?" 

Tony sounded a lot less enthusiastic than he had the last time Steve had brought up a new training sim. "I can give you a few minutes right after dinner, sure," he said. 

"Great," Steve said. He wasn't sure how he was going to approach this, but there was a bright side: he was fairly certain he couldn't make things any more awkward between them.

****

"So, the training sim," Tony said, half an hour later, when everyone else had left the kitchen and he and Steve had finished clearing away the mess. "What do you want to do?"

Steve had been thinking about that. He hadn't actually had anything in mind when he made the suggestion; it had just been the kind of thing he thought Tony would be willing to talk to him about, away from the others so that there could be an element of surprise, at least the first time they unveiled the new training program. 

"Can you come up with something that simulates the effects of magic?" he asked. "We know there are several villains out there who use, or can use, magic, and I don't think we're sufficiently prepared." 

Tony frowned. "'Magic' is a pretty broad category." 

"If you can't do it, that's fine. Maybe it was a bad idea." Steve found himself smiling a little. Needling Tony a bit was the most reliable way to get him to rise to a challenge. 

"I didn't say I couldn't do it. I said 'magic' is a broad category. Let's narrow it down some. Come up with a list of, say, five to ten things that magic-users have tried against us in the past. Not all from the same person. Even if it doesn't make logical sense to put those attacks together--as much as 'logic' and so-called 'magic' are compatible at all--we shouldn't be preparing to fight against a particular opponent, so we don't want to just copy someone's skill set." 

Tony had already pulled out his phone and was starting to make notes. "I can use that to simulate an opponent. If we come up with a more comprehensive list, the training room AI can generate randomized opponents--with different physical attributes and skills, as well as different sets of magical attacks and defenses. JARVIS, we're going to want all the recordings from any confrontations with, let's see. Loki, the Enchantress, Victor von Doom--"

"Tony," Steve cut in, before Tony got too swept up in his new project. "That isn't actually what I wanted to talk to you about." 

Tony frowned, blinking a little in a way that Steve recognized as trying to shift from lab-mode to "conversations with other humans" mode. "It's not? It was a good idea. We probably should be doing this. It's going to take longer to work up than the other simulations you've suggested, but that's no reason not to get started." 

Steve smiled again. "I'm glad it's a good idea, and if you need me to help you go through all the recordings, I'll be happy to. But it was just an excuse to get you to talk to me."

The frown deepened. "I talk to you all the time," he said. "Not lately, because you've been in Uruguay, but that's hardly my fault." 

Steve sighed. "I know. But what I meant is--" He shook his head, reaching out and putting his hand on Tony's forearm. Even before they'd pretended to be a couple, Steve would have done that without hesitation, and Tony wouldn't have objected. 

Now Tony pulled his arm back. Not quickly or dramatically, just withdrawing enough that Steve was no longer touching him. 

"That's what I meant," Steve said. "I don't know why putting an end to our fake relationship is causing a problem, but it is." That wasn't entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie, either. Steve didn't know. He didn't even suspect. He just hoped. 

"I don't like being blindsided," Tony said. "Especially not when I'm about to be on television." 

Steve thought about the number of times that a press conference Tony gave had gone in an entirely different direction than anyone else was expecting, but decided that calling Tony a hypocrite wouldn't get them anywhere good.

"And I've apologized for that," Steve said. "I didn't intend to do it. Things just... happened. I started talking, and then could hardly believe what I was saying."

Tony's body language relaxed, suggesting a slight thaw toward Steve. "All right, I can understand that. It's happened to me a time or...twenty, at least." Then he shrugged. "If that's all you wanted to talk to me about, though, I'm going to get down to the lab and get to work." 

Steve shook his head. "It's not."

"I knew I couldn't be that lucky," Tony said, but he did give Steve a slight smile. "Should we maybe go somewhere with more comfortable chairs?" 

"Come on," Steve said. "Let me buy you a cup of coffee." 

"We have coffee here," Tony reminded him. 

"I know. But it's been over a week since we've been out for coffee. They're going to be missing us at the diner."

"I don't think they'll be expecting to see us again," Tony pointed out. "At least not together."

"We weren't really pretending to be a couple there. We were acting the way we normally do." 

"I'm not sure there's that much difference," Tony said, his voice low enough that Steve wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard. 

He didn't care. He _had_ heard, and he wasn't going to pretend he hadn't. "Wasn't that supposed to be the point? We didn't want to put up a big act that we couldn't keep up without a lot of effort." And Steve hadn't had a lot of problem pretending to be someone in love with Tony. That was how he normally acted. 

It might be a faint hope, but he was hoping that he wasn't the only one. 

"Okay," Tony said. "But not right now. We just finished dinner, and since I'm guessing you want to talk about something, not just shoot the breeze for an hour, I'm refusing to do that without pancakes. I'm going to the lab. Come get me when you get back from your run tomorrow." 

"You're going to work through the night?" 

"I'll catch some sleep somewhere in there." 

"Is that a lie?"

"Not necessarily." He grinned at Steve, and Steve felt something in his chest ease. "I'll sleep when I'm dead," he added, and headed off toward the elevators. 

Steve shook his head, with a rush of fondness. Maybe by this time tomorrow, even if Steve didn't have everything he wanted, he'd at least be able to watch Tony work again. And maybe pester him enough that Tony would get annoyed and go off to sleep before he spent the whole night in the lab. 

He'd settle for that, and it wouldn't even feel like settling.

****

"I'm not going to apologize again for what I said on _Mornings with Megan_ ," Steve said. He'd waited until their food had been delivered to the table to steer the conversation away from anything but the smallest of small talk. Then he'd waited a little longer, until they'd both made a significant dent in their breakfasts.

He might have been stalling, just a little bit. 

"Okay," Tony said. "I don't need you to. I'd have preferred a heads-up, but I see why that didn't happen. So what did you want to talk about?"

"I have a question, first."

Tony put his fork down, signaled to their server for more coffee, and said, "Sure. I might even have an answer."

"When we made our first statements--about being together. When I came out. Why didn't you say anything about yourself?"

Tony shrugged. "This was about you. Believe it or not, I am capable of not upstaging somebody. And it's not like your right-wing fan club liked me anyway. I quit the weapons business, I have an education, I believe in science...." 

"And I thought you were trying not to lie any more than you had to," Steve said. "That you were pretending to be involved with a man as a favor to me, and that was all." 

Tony snorted, but instead of saying anything, took out his phone and started tapping at the screen. "Thanks," he said to the young woman who filled his coffee cup, and then handed the phone to Steve. "I didn't come out because of this." 

A page of search engine results; the bar at the top had "is Tony Stark bisexual" filled in. 

Steve scanned the first page of results; even without opening up any of the links, the answer was coming up a definitive "yes."

"Nobody brings it up any more," he said. "I was with Pepper for a while, and I mostly date women, for a lot of reasons. But in the nineties, right after they changed the rules so that you could still get government security clearances even if you weren't straight, I had a pretty dramatic short-lived relationship with a guy. It made the papers. And I decided that if people asked, I'd answer. So when you asked me to help you--I figured you knew? It's in my SHIELD file, after all." 

Steve hadn't read too deeply into Tony's SHIELD file, or anyone else's. He'd wanted to get to know them for who they were, not for Nick Fury's opinion of them. The part where Tony was a narcissistic man-child who tended to self-medicate with entirely too much alcohol--that, he'd read. It was on the first page. 

But he'd stuck to the parts about what Tony could bring to a team, and not to his personal history, and in the twenty-first century, being attracted to men wasn't seen as a significant drawback, just a detail. 

"I had no idea," Steve said. "I don't go around looking up people's life stories when I meet them." 

"Even when we know yours? Or at least half a dozen fictionalized versions of it?"

"Even then," Steve said, smiling a little. 

"So now I've answered your question. Still want to talk to me about anything?" Tony seemed to shrink into himself a little, or maybe it was just that he wasn't projecting his personality into the room as forcefully as he usually did. He'd turned off the "I'm Tony Stark, look at me!" field he generally surrounded himself with. 

Not that Steve needed that for Tony to be the focus of his attention. "I do," he said, "but I'm not sure how to start the conversation without sounding like an idiot. I've already admitted to being unobservant, or maybe just not curious enough about you." 

"You know," Tony said, "right now would be a good time to go ahead and sound like an idiot, I'd say." He set down his coffee cup, but instead of letting his hand fall back to his side, he left it resting on the table. "So, was there anything you wanted to say to me?" 

"As soon as I figure out how to say it," Steve promised. 

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, for Pete's sake." He pulled his hand back and started typing on his phone again. 

A few seconds later, the phone in Steve's pocket chimed with a text alert. Shaking his head, Steve pulled it out to read what Tony had sent him. 

_"Since we're acting like a couple of idiot kids right now, you could always go with the classics. 1/5"_

_"Do you like me? Check one (1): 2/5"_

_"Yes [ ] 3/5"_

_"No [ ] 4/5"_

_"What the hell is wrong with you, Tony? [ ] 5/5"_

Steve burst out laughing. "I think I'd check the last one." But it had broken the ice, and he took a deep breath. "So, you know back when we were pretending to date, I really enjoyed it." 

"Yeah, me too," Tony said. "You might have noticed that by how much I hated it when we stopped pretending to date." 

That was what Steve had realized; Tony was angry at him not because he'd been surprised by the revelation, but because they wouldn't be "dating" any longer.

But Steve had already apologized for that more than once, and right now, he wanted to see if they could move forward. "We could try it for real," he suggested quickly, before all the thoughts about how he should probably just try to maintain a professional relationship with Tony took over and silenced him. 

Tony's lips pursed like he was deep in thought. "It's a possibility," he said. "But there'd have to be some changes." 

"Like?" 

"No breaking up with me on TV," he said, "even if it is just a local morning show." 

"I promise. Anything else?"

Now Tony's expression relaxed, sliding slowly into a smile. "More kissing. Actual kissing, not the stuff we did for the cameras." 

"I think that could possibly be arranged," he said. Tony had put his hand back on the table when he was done with his phone; Steve reached out and put his own hand over it, his thumb rubbing lightly over Tony's skin. "Anything else?"

"We can take our time if you want, but eventually there's going to need to be something more than kissing." Tony gave him an exaggerated wink, and Steve laughed again. 

"As long as I can take my time," he said, and if he hadn't been watching, he'd have missed the flash of disappointment. 

"Sure thing," Tony said. "Any idea what kind of time frame we're talking about?" 

"How long does it take to get home?"

Tony smirked at him, then reached in his wallet and threw some cash on the table. "I hope you're done eating."

****

The ride back to the tower seemed to take forever, much longer than even morning traffic would have accounted for. Steve certainly couldn't blame the driver; as much as possible, given the traffic, Tony violated speed limits, traffic laws, and potentially the laws of physics.

Steve normally hated Tony's driving, but right now--

Right now, he still hated Tony's driving, but he wasn't going to complain about it. Not if it got him back to the tower, and therefore to a place where he was actually going to be allowed to touch Tony, even a minute or two faster. 

All the way back to the tower, Steve kept his hands resting on his knees, because if he let himself reach for Tony at all, if he even let his hand brush against Tony's, they were going to be breaking a lot more than traffic laws before they got home. 

Finally, though, they were in the parking garage, and Steve gave into the urge to grab Tony's hand and pull him toward the elevators. 

Tony followed him, laughing. "Not impatient, are you?" 

"Not in the least," he said. "And you're not either." 

"I'm really not," Tony agreed. "Which is why I'm letting you drag me into an elevator, instead of me dragging you onto the hood of a car." 

Steve was tempted, but kept going. The sooner they were in the elevator, the sooner they could be upstairs, where there was privacy. And a bed. 

But the way Tony kept grinning at him, with equal parts amusement and heat behind it, called for a change of plans. 

So once the elevator doors closed behind them, Steve said, "JARVIS? Stop the elevator. If anyone asks, it's out of service, maintenance has been called, and nobody's inside." 

"Certainly, Captain." 

"And turn off internal security recordings until the elevator starts moving again," Tony added quickly. Then, to Steve, he said, "I mean, unless you just intended us to stay in here playing tic-tac-toe on the walls for a while?" 

"We'd want the recordings off for that, too," Steve said. "It's vandalism."

"It's not vandalism if you own the building," Tony replied.

Steve couldn't think of an answer to that, at least not one that didn't agree with Tony, so he decided that now was the perfect time for what he'd had in mind: pushing Tony up against the wall of the elevator and kissing him. 

They'd kissed before. Technically. But even the one kiss that hadn't been for public display had been careful, controlled. Tame. 

They didn't count, but Steve was determined to make sure this one did. His hands on Tony's shoulders kept him pinned against the wall as he kissed Tony, again and again, because he finally had Tony and he wasn't sure he was ever going to be able to get enough of him. 

Tony's lips parted for Steve without any coaxing, welcoming him in and returning the kisses with equal fervor. He clutched at Steve's shirt, pulling him in closer, until Steve was pressed against Tony's body, and then Tony hitched up his right leg, wrapping it awkwardly but effectively around Steve's thighs, and dragged him closer still. 

Steve sometimes found it a little embarrassing how quickly his body reacted to stimuli, ever since Project Rebirth--though at least he had a lot more control over himself than he had in the first few days after the serum--but today, he couldn't be bothered. First of all, this wasn't a few minutes of kissing; this was the culmination of months of being driven slowly out of his mind by Tony. 

Secondly, Tony was angling his hips so that he could rock against Steve, and Steve wasn't the only one who was already hard; Tony's cock pressed into Steve's thigh, and Steve shifted to increase the pressure.

Tony's head tipped back slightly, a soft groan escaping him, and Steve kissed his way down Tony's jaw to his exposed throat. Steve kept his kisses light, not wanting to leave any visible marks on Tony; they weren't a couple of kids making out in the back seat of Dad's car. The thought of marking Tony was tempting, though. He should bring that up later, when he had more access to skin that wouldn't show under Tony's clothes. 

"We should probably head upstairs," he suggested, his mouth still pressed against the hot skin of Tony's neck. 

"No, we shouldn't," Tony said. "You should finish what you've started."

Steve hadn't actually planned that. He'd thought they'd kiss for a while here in the elevator, but eventually, they'd have JARVIS turn it back on and continue up to Steve's apartment or the penthouse. 

On the other hand, Tony was here, and he was tempting, and Steve had decided to give in to temptation. 

"I wanted to get you into a bed," he argued, not all that vehemently.

"Sounds great," Tony agreed cheerfully. He let go of Steve's shirt with one hand, slipping his hand down so that he could rub Steve's cock through his pants. "We can do that later. More than once. In multiple positions. Until we both die of exhaustion." 

He laughed. "Let's not die."

"Until we almost die of exhaustion," Tony corrected himself. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir. Should I restart the elevator?"

"If you do, I'm going to reprogram you as a karaoke machine."

"I might remind you that you have frequently used me as--"

"A toaster, then," Tony said. Despite the conversation he was holding with JARVIS, he hadn't lost sight of what he'd been doing to Steve; Steve groaned a little and pushed forward against Tony's hand. "No, what I want you to do is to clear my calendar for today. And tomorrow; I think I'm going to need to sleep in. Do the same for Captain Rogers."

"I have a meeting with Maria Hill tomorrow," Steve said. 

"Make the excuse you give Hill a good one," Tony told JARVIS. "She has a very suspicious mind."

"Two days?" Steve said to Tony. 

"We're going to be tired tomorrow," Tony said, grinning. "And I'm going to be in the mood to lounge around and make out with you and probably drag you into my lab so you can draw pictures of me while I work." Then he brightened a little more. "Also, you're totally allowed to draw pictures of me while we're lounging around and making out." 

"You knew I was drawing you?" Steve asked, eyes narrowing. 

"I didn't go look in your sketchbook to confirm it," Tony said, "but you never mind showing people what you're drawing, and even when I asked, you brushed me off. I made some assumptions."

"I'll show you later," Steve promised. 

"Later is good," he agreed. "You're busy right now." Now he moved his hand away from Tony's cock--not far, just so that he could get Steve's pants open. 

"And you're impatient."

"I have poor impulse control," Tony said. "Hadn't you heard?" 

"At least at the moment, I don't mind that you're not controlling your impulses," Steve admitted, though he pushed Tony's hand aside so that he could work on undoing Tony's pants. 

"As long as I don't get distracted," Tony said. "You're going to have to work pretty hard to keep me fo--" Steve assumed that was supposed to be "focused," but it dissolved into a strangled noise as Steve took Tony's cock out and gave it a few quick strokes. 

"You sound pretty focused to me," Steve said. He pressed his hand against Tony's mouth. "Get it wet for me." 

Tony's words were muffled; all Steve could make out for sure was "...way...you think," which he was going to assume was part of a compliment, because Tony was licking his palm, a lot slower and more thoroughly than he really needed to. 

Steve didn't mind. It was obviously intended to get Steve thinking about all the various other ways Tony could use his tongue, and it was just as obviously working. 

Later, Steve promised himself. Later, when they were in that bed, and they had more time, and Steve wasn't quite this desperate to touch Tony. 

Right now, he took his hand away, and then gave into a sudden impulse of his own. "Hands above your head," he told Tony, who grinned. 

"That's how you want to play?" he said. "Fine. Ravish me, Captain." He raised his arms, and Steve used one hand to pin them against the wall, while the other wrapped around both their cocks. 

And then Tony stopped cracking jokes, and just went along with Steve, thrusting into Steve's hand and against Steve's cock, while Steve met him, thrust for thrust, and kept kissing him.

Maybe Tony had the right idea about clearing their calendars for tomorrow as well as today. Steve wouldn't mind being able to spend as much time as he wanted just kissing Tony, gentle and lazy, without any further goal than that. 

Of course, with Tony involved, there was always the chance that Tony would get distracted by something and go running off to his lab because he wouldn't be able to relax until he worked out this idea that he'd had. But Steve could follow him, and sketch him while he worked, and then convince Tony that science went better with the occasional break for something other than coffee. 

And he wouldn't be in love with Tony Stark--Steve felt himself grinning against Tony's mouth at the thought--if he couldn't accept Tony's occasional distractedness, his tendency to get obsessed with his work, and everything else that seemed to go along with Tony's genius. 

Right now, though, Tony didn't show any signs of getting distracted. He wasn't even talking, thought he wasn't quiet, either; Steve's mouth on his muffled his whines and gasps so that no one outside the elevator would have been able to hear them, but Steve could still savor every one of them. 

And then, finally, Tony found words. "Hold on," he said, and Steve's hand stilled. "I'm getting close."

"You want to stop?" 

"I want to remind you that I'm not twenty, or a super soldier, and if I come now, I'm going to be out of commission for a while." 

Steve smiled. "You know my plans after this were to drag you upstairs, into a bed--"

"That's what I'm saying," Tony pointed out. 

"--but that doesn't mean that I expected an immediate second round." Steve probably could have managed that without a problem, but that didn't mean it was necessary. "To be honest, I had the ulterior motive of trying to get you to sleep." 

Tony shook his head. "I slept last night. At least three hours, on the couch in the lab." 

"Fine," Steve said, suspecting that if he could get Tony to lie down for a while, he'd fall asleep anyway. "Then we can go to plan B, which involves getting you into bed, getting most of your clothes off, and then seeing if I can literally kiss every inch of your skin." 

"That could actually work," Tony agreed. "Keep going, then." 

Steve laughed, but he lowered his head to kiss Tony again as he went back to stroking their cocks. The friction of Tony's erection against his was almost overwhelming, and when Tony arched against him, shuddered, and came, Steve groaned. "Tony."

"That's me," Tony said, breathing hard but still managing to sound unbelievably smug. "And I really want to see you come, but _somebody_ has my hands pinned, so you're going to have to take care of that yourself." 

"I guess I could do that for you," Steve said. "As a favor." He shifted his grip, knowing that Tony's cock was likely to be oversensitive at the moment, so that his hand was only wrapped around his own erection. "Especially since I really enjoyed the chance to watch you." 

It only took a few quick strokes before Steve felt himself tensing up, then came into his hand, kissing Tony hard as he tried to keep his knees from buckling under him. 

"Hey," Tony said, after a moment. Steve wondered if the smile he could feel on his own face was anything like as dazed and ridiculous as the one Tony was giving him. "We should probably, you know, go somewhere we can clean up."

"Hm? Oh, yeah, you might be right." He was definitely right. Steve didn't have anything to clean himself up with; he wiped his hand as best he could on his underwear and the inside hem of his shirt, but he didn't want to have to walk around like this for long. 

"Your place or mine?" Tony said. With his hands free now, he was straightening his clothing, tucking himself away again and zipping up his pants. 

"Both." Tony raised an eyebrow, and Steve clarified. "Mine to let me grab some clothes, then yours? If you're planning to keep me in bed with you for two days..." 

"That works. How about you get off on your floor, I go up to the penthouse and clean up, and you come join me when you're ready?" 

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'm serious about tomorrow," Tony said. "I get you for two days, no interruptions unless the world is ending." 

"Have you heard me complaining about it? I just thought I might like a clean shirt at some point." 

Steve tugged at his clothing until he thought he was presentable. He still figured any more than a moment's scrutiny would let the least observant person figure out what he'd been doing, but he could pass someone in the hallway without attracting too much attention. Steve probably wouldn't even see anyone, anyway, since no one really had a reason to be on his floor. 

"Yeah, you might." Tony grinned. "I might have plans to mess you up." 

That sounded good to Steve. "JARVIS, start the elevator again." He turned to Tony, grinning. "Now, tell me about these plans."

****

"Tony!" Steve yelled into his comm as he saw a red and gold streak falling out of the sky. He didn't let himself turn his attention away from what he was doing; the dinosaur-army guy had escaped from custody, and this time, he had pterodactyls. Steve was on a rooftop, trying to drive the winged monsters away from the area where the authorities were evacuating civilians.

But the "I'm okay," in his ear was immensely reassuring, just the same. "Grounded for the rest of the fight, but okay." 

When Steve had a moment to look down, he saw that Tony was on his feet, still in the battle even if his suit was too damaged for him to fly.

After that, Steve was too busy fighting wave after wave of flying prehistoric beasts to check up on Tony. If something was wrong, he'd know, but beyond that, only the brief check-ins from Tony and the others let him know they were all still fine. 

But once it was all over except the clean-up--which Steve was happy to leave to someone else--and the responsible party had been handed over to SHIELD this time, instead of the police, he made his way to Tony immediately. 

Tony already had his helmet off, which made it impossible to miss the bruise on his cheek and the trickle of blood on his forehead. "I thought you said you were okay?" Steve said. 

"I'm fine. I got banged up a little when I... let's call it 'landed.'"

"Crashed?" Steve suggested. 

"I like 'landed.'" 

"I like you in one piece," Steve said. Hugging Tony when Tony was in the armor was... well, not completely out of the question, but left a lot to be desired. Instead, he cupped Tony's face with his hands, leaning in and kissing him until they were both breathless. 

"I'll keep that in mind," Tony said, just as Steve realized that not all the civilians had been removed from the area--never underestimate the stubbornness of someone who thought they could get video of actual dinosaurs--and some of them had their phones out. 

"Here we go again," he murmured to Tony, before stepping back and turning toward the nearest amateur journalist, a young woman who looked like she might be a college student. 

"It's not safe here," Steve said. "You really should leave the area. Even now, there might be something that we missed, or structural damage to the buildings--"

She interrupted him. "I'm going," she promised. "But--" She waved toward Steve and Tony. "I saw you on TV a few weeks ago. Didn't you break up?"

"We did," Tony said, stepping up and putting one gauntleted hand on Steve's arm. "It didn't take." 

Steve smiled at him. "Yeah, it turns out I was lost without him."

"Sap," Tony muttered, and Steve didn't bother to argue.

****

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Bombadil's "A Question," because I spent a lot of time singing "Do, do you, do you like, do you like-like, do you like-like me too?" while writing it. 
> 
> \--
> 
> I can be found on [dreamwidth](https://mireille719.dreamwidth.org/).


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